It starts out,

Simultaneous.

As if looking into a mirror.

The first drops of rain

Outside my window

Fall to the ground

Like the tears

From my eyes.

The small streams

Running down the road

And down my face,

Creating canyons.

The drops sliding,

Graceful like ballerinas,

Down the windowpane,

Emulating the watery fluid

Flowing along my cheeks.

Kids could jump and play

In the puddle at my knees

Like they do outside

With their rain boots

Of the whole color spectrum

On their feet.

The pitter-patter

Of the drops on the roof

Echo along, when really

The pitter-patter

Should be of soft, miniscule feet

Running around

This now empty house.

But, rays are gradually

Appearing

Clouds, dispersing

Unveiling a new day.

Touching the darkest,

Distressed, disturbed

Souls,

New chances being given

To the needy.

Through the tears,

Sorrow, suffering,

My frown,

Clouded, stormy, frown

Cracks.

Cracking thinly,

Sparsely,

The corners of my mouth

Turn up, marginally

Like a new flower,

Just blooming,

In an abyss.

The rays,

Now fracturing,

The gray-slated sky.

Not like lightning,

But like my smile,

Slowly, gently

Growing like

An infectious weed,

Spreading everywhere.

My voice,

Now sings,

Like the chirping birds

Of the dewy, early

Morning.

My eyes,

Now shine,

Sparkling, scintillating, shimmering

Like the star

Of Neverland.

My world,

Is rainbows,

Is sunny,

Is smiles,

With only a few

Frowns or clouds

Bringing me down.

-Irene Montanini