Drops of rain. 

Whispered words. 

An interrupted open mic. 

The rain clawed through umbrellas, 

Split the sky wide open.

Thunder howled, splitting the air.  

Tip tap, tip tap– 

rain beat rhythm on the roads, 

like drumbeats in a song. 

Like my rusted heartbeat

Thumping faintly– 

thump, thump.

“Run through rain,” they said.

“Run through rain,” we echoed.

So we ran. 

Shoes splashed through puddles. 

Breath rose in clouds. 

Hair clung to our cheeks. 

Rain didn’t whip wildflowers.

It roused rusted hearts. 

We were a crowd of soaked souls

squeezed into a single classroom, 

drenched, dripping, dizzy with laughter. 

We wrote about wind and wishes,

shared our poems and prose. 

Smiling. 

Eyes shining. 

Rain slammed the windowpane– 

but our passion outlasted the storm.

Applause rose, 

Louder than the rain. 

Water trickled down my legs.  

My heart beated once again.