As the rain falls

I'm not sure if it's the rain that's been falling, so consistent in it's pursuit, soaking this dry earth, washing away the winter months, reviving the people who inhabit the hard, cold land. I'm not sure if it's the yearning to be home, to be comfortable and to be alone, in the stillness and memorability of the house I call my home. I'm not sure if it's because of you and my indeterminable desire for something more and the inevitability that is the inability to have it. I'm not sure if it's memories of the last that I can't seem to reconcile with my new feelings and the sadness that arises from the clash of these two contradictions. I'm not sure if it's the longing for summer months that carry with them the promise of simplicity, laughter, a lighter heart than the one I am bearing within me now. I'm not sure if it's the dread of the end, knowing that the days left here are numbered and the number is so few that I'm realizing the value of what I have. I'm not sure if it is any or all of these things, but as the rain continues to fall I find within myself an unexplainable sadness. One that demands not to be understood but rather felt in all it's mystery. A sadness that aches and throbs. A sadness that overtakes and consumes. A sadness that is idle and unshaken. A sadness that is calm and soft. A sadness that yields no tears. A sadness that changes your demeanor by only a degree or two. A sadness that will forever remain unexplainable.

          [alc]