Waltzing in the Rain

One-Two-Three. One-Two-Three.

Tears waltzed down from a blue heaven above decked with a few wisps of thin white scarves.

One-Two-Three. One-Two-Three.

The tears danced into the aquamarine lake below. A ripple at first, then nothing to show they’d ever been there, subsumed into the body of a thousand droplets.

One-Two-Three. One-Two-Three.

I thought to myself that this was very much like music. Someone once told me that the essence of listening to music (yes, and much else besides I would think) is recalling the notes you’ve heard before, holding the ones sounding in the present and anticipating those to come. In this way you begin to see the story.

Watching heaven weep is much like this.

These tears, they once gave life, they give them now and so on the cycle continues for all eternity—an endless waltz.

One. Two. Three.