When I was a kid I’d like to watch the rain come down.
For some reason I used to think that the large splashes that each heavy droplet of rain made,
Looking like they were taking form,
Were elves, or little gnomes,
Dancing on the puddles and in the streets when no one else wanted to.
I guess that was my escape from a rainy day stuck inside my apartment,
All the while the world waited under cover for the rain let up,
And here played these little dancing gnomes I had created in my imagination,
As the rain grew heavier the elves danced higher and faster.
Millions of them, all dancing in pure unsynchronized bliss.
Why can’t the world be more like when we were young?