Our Last Waltz
Our Last Waltz The rain falls with heavy purpose. It spatters from the windows, the ground, the walls, bursting like petals from a flower. They fall till they are caught by the impeding end of solid foundation. Becoming still, to eventually be taken back by the embraces of the sky. Only to fall once again. Living the perpetual life of anxiety as they wait for their doomed decent to a crashing end. But as they fall, there is beauty in each droplet, they do not fall without purpose. They bring nourishment to trees, to plants, to us. They fall and wash away the filth that clutters the lives of what we cannot see. They are translucent in their appearance, but are felt like any other creation nature births. They cool the skin on a summers day or sting the flesh upon a bitter evening. Yet, they fall with elegance and bring us a gift with each crashing fall. I think this, as I waltz with my wife one last time. Tonight, she is my droplet of...