Pit patter on the rooftops, I hear the rain begin.
The heavens above are weeping. The clouds letting loose their tears. Droplets falling swiftly down upon the surface.
I lean against the window listening to the soft caressing of water in the treetops, drip dripping down to earth.
The soft weeping becomes louder, violent rainfall.
Thunder shakes the sky. Lightning smashes to earth.
The trees shiver in fear, shaking away the tears which clung to them.
Then the wind begins, crashing against buildings. The trees sway, terrified of being swept away.
Ebony clouds spiral and twist with the wind in a sad sort of dance.
The wind howls and moans, like sad voices, crying with the sky.
The rain is full of ghosts tonight, disturbed from their sleep by the cacophony.
I watch, strangely comforted by this dance of wind and cloud. The rain becoming a rhythm. The ghosts humming a sad, soulful song.
It lulls me into sleep. I dream, and dance with ghosts tonight.
Inspired by a writing prompt.