Rain Soaked Pages

The darkness opened, shining a pervailing light down to the ground. Looking up I see almost a smiling face. I smile and feel happy as the rain disperses. My thoughts belong to myself and no one else. The rain soaked pages of the book dry, giving a distinguished wrinkle to the pages. With every last rain drop, a little bit more of the ink begins to run thru the pages. The rain stops completely and the only drops hitting the pages fall from my hair. I keep on writing, I dont know where I'm going with it but I still go on, letting my emotions join the rain in soaking the pages thru. My pen hits the pages, writes a little but sinks thru the pages, lost within time. Where the pen leads, I never know, but it always seems to work. I write because i feel and I write because it helps me deal. If ever there was a time I needed to figure out what to do, the pen and paper are always where I head to, it doesn't seem to judge, it only listens