...Their tears...

Rain drops.
Slow but steady, coming with a mission.
Slowly picking up pace, mission in sight.
They say those are the tears of God,
Then he must cry a lot,
More than I do I guess.

Rain drops,
melodious weeping,
You long to aid the weeper,
But don't, for the melody would seize.
So you stare out lost in the sound,
Mesmerized by the drops,
And trapped in the guilt of prayers for more.

Rain drops,
Do I trade in my sorrows for more of the melody?
Do I pretend I want to take the pain and make it stop?

The sun would shine again,
No doubt.
The tears would end sometime,
No doubt.
But for these few minutes,
For this time soon to become a memory,
Let mi enjoy this guilty-pleasure.

Rain drops,
The salt-less tears fall to earth,
Crystal clear, each unique note,
And when they hit the ground,
Just before the death of that unique pain the weeper feels,
A sound so wondrous,
A sound so unique,
A sound like no other,
My ears perceive.