Standing in the breezeway
trying to avoid getting wet
as the rain hits the pavement
with playful abandon
uncaring of its inevitable destiny
of rejoining the collective.
My nocturnal struggle with anxiety
has a hold on me that predicts future victory…
until I step out into the rain.
I make a dash for the back door
but the closer I get, the harder it rains
and I slip and slide in my sandals
like a horse in stilettos
surrounded by meddlesome children.
Eventually I let go
and accept the gentle reprieve from my nightly tango with sorrow
that I can only assume has been granted by God himself.
I laugh with an abandon that I thought had been lost to me
as each drop of rain weaves its way
into the fabric of my clothes.
“Are you happy now, anxious child of mine?”
“Yes, I am.”