Listen to the Rain

 Not everyone notices.Most are completely unaware.

The beautiful timing, and synchronized dancing of the molecules in the air.

The molecules that have no idea who you are. Nor do they care.

Even though you're made of them, before you made up who you are. 

The notes and silences that make the sounds of the music we hear.

The lyrics spoken as if an old dear friend chiming in like they were near.

Singing on in perfect time to the rain playing bass on your windshield, 

and your windshield wipers swipe swiping along to the rhythm of your breath 

and the bumps in the road like a map that knew where each heartbeat would be left.

How this moment would not exist unless every single one preceeding it had happened first.

If you pay close attention, do not force nor try to control it,

The ceaseless echoes sent endlessly out into the universe will tell all in time.

You are here and It is now. There is truth about your place in this. 

The future is the past, simply the future in reverse. No end, no goodbyes, no beginnings.

It never bothers us what we were before we became.Why should we be bothered by what becomes of one after? 

One. And the same.

As it is now, over and over and over again.

Pay close attention. Listen to the rain.