Rain

It's raining, probably because Enas is not smiling much these days. I was reading various Hadith late last night, and I came across the following:
Anas ibn Malik said, “While we were with the Prophet of Allah, upon him be peace, it began to rain. The Prophet opened his cloak so that the rain could fall on him. We asked, ‘Why did you do that?” The Prophet replied, “It has been with its Lord very recently.“
I have not been able to track down the exact Hadith, but it is a beautiful sentiment nonetheless!  It has been raining here a lot lately, and I have been thinking of rain and other things. Of all of God's blessings, I am guilty of neglecting this the most.  Rain is His gift that I ignore or avoid, and I have never thought that I was squandering another renewed miracle, as I have sunrises, sunsets, and cool summer breezes.
When I am not running from the rain, or casting suspending spells towards it on the golf course, I do acquiesce to it late at night when it is softly imploring me to sleep, relentlessly caressing my window, rolling up in velvet cascades streaming across the pane, pleading to wash away the vexations of my day. And no matter my mood, I surrender to its song, and settle in for a warm and peaceful slumber.  Callously I suppose, I awake the next morning, feeling alive and rejuvenated, eager to tackle my day, forgetting to thank my God for His sacred sedative.
Unlike my insomnia, I don't give my grief to the rain, I sometimes take it to it. I can remember the few times in my life when my world seemed to be folding in around me, and I was drawn out into a slow and heavy downpour, releasing everything to the steady, pulsing massage. Like a dozen iconic movie images, I stand for awhile staring into the distance, then gradually up to the heavens letting the rain wash down over me, knowing nothing else to do.  There is no time in this embrace, no humility or hubris, no defiant curse invoking wrath, no whimpering plea for release - just the crushing commune of a broken man and his patient, merciful God.
Now, I miss the rain when I am missing her. A soft drizzle that would buffet me gently and ease the provocation of my memories.  I would drag out those artifacts that populate my world, those ambushing reminders that bring me back to her reluctantly a hundred times a day, drag them out with me into the rain, letting them pucker and bleed eventually rinsing clean, giving them back to the earth that we stole them from.
Tomorrow maybe, just to walk out into the wind and mist without love or pain or misplaced grief, just to revel in this precious gift, God's newest grace tangled and mingled with the tears of joy on my face.

*I have started the movie Blade Runner a hundred times, yet had not seen the end until last night. This scene, where the protagonist (Harrison Ford) has just been rescued inexplicably by the villain (Rutger Hauer) in the rain, is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen.  Hauer, plays an android that has desperately fought his mandatory termination at the hands of Ford, whose job it is to protect mankind from the inevitable consequences of self-aware "replicants" who dare to approach human emotion and the threshold of a soul.  In his last moments, this near human teaches the man that love and pain are bargained plain, and lost "like tears in the rain."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAJGM8c6Wg4