Shadow

You're caught in the rain. It is a soft rain, but enough to drench your outsides. Inside, you stay clear and cloudless. Surprisingly, the sogginess of your sandals and the faint shivering of your skin don't affect you. Like a flower or a tree, you know you need both rain and sunshine to grow. You will blossom no other way. For only in the warmth and clamminess of light and shadow may you break through this muddy earth. You have just competed. You won a victory, but it doesn't really matter to you; after all, your goodness is only relative. What matters now is the rain, which is both sad and beautiful. It falls onto the contours of your silhouette; it forms you. You become. You look up and let it fall into your eyes. Even with the splash of tears, it is a cleansing rain.