365 Days of Happy - Day 271

So, I wrote this a few years ago for my creative writing class. I don't know if it's good or not, but I spent a lot of time on it, and I read it in front of my class (which I was SO nervous about), and it's a Day of Happy because I really enjoyed that creative writing class and all the writing prompts our professor gave us.

I'd love some feedback. What do you think of this?

Save This For A Rainy Day

“What is the rain?”  The blind child of the desert asked me.

Rain is Latin for “rigare” meaning to wet, to moisten, to water.

Rain is water absorbed from lakes and oceans to create dark, heavy cumulonimbus clouds.

Rain is liquid precipitation; melted ice elements falling from the sky.  It is evaporation in reverse.

Rain is the baby of the thunderstorm, whose brother is hail and sister is snow.

It is a universal language understood all around the world.  Pluvia.  Lluvia.  Chuva.  Pluie.  Regna.  Reën.  Rain.

Rain is parts of a whole, plotting together to create thunderstorms, oceans, typhoons, or with a little help, acid rain.  Acid rain will definitely rain on your parade.

We mustn’t disregard the beautiful things that rain can create, such as rainbows with treasures at the end, ponds for kaleidoscopic colored fish and glassy-eyed frogs, and muddy puddles for children in slick polka dotted rain boots to jump in.

When it rains, it rains cats and dogs, sometimes men, and on rare occasions, if you follow Prince, it is the somber tears of purple rain.

If you don’t know Prince, you probably know Lil Wayne.  He can actually make it rain.

Perhaps rain is angel tears.  The guardians who cry because one of their own has fallen to the fiery well of the inferno.

It could be glitter and tinsel falling from the clouds, left over from the universe’s New Year’s celebration.

It is diamonds that were dropped from the palms of angels.

It is the sweet salvation to all animals and the satisfying drink to vegetation.

Rain is a sparking shower to cleanse the Earth, to wash it away of all its sins.

It is the metallic song of fresh cut grass and damp laundry hung out to dry in the summer sun.

It is the appreciated result from a ceremonial Native American rain dance.

It is independent music notes; a symphony of gloomy sonatas.

Rain is little worlds falling from the heavens, prepared to splatter on a sidewalk at any moment and destroy its universe.

It is spitballs shot from the mouths of aliens located outside the atmosphere.

It is rounded daggers ready to assault an innocent person on his long walk home from work.

It is fallen see-through stars shaped like teardrops.

Rain is a vanilla ice cream cone dribbling off a child’s hand.

Maybe rain is slippery cloud babies descended from the heavens.

A saint to areas where there has been a drought.

A devil to places where there has been a flood.

Rain is the days where you just want to snuggle up in your bed and sleep for hours, and say,

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.