You know what's good about rain?
It is we who give the rain its significance, importance or uselessness.
And he just goes.
Puddles looks at us, at our actions, listens to our conversations.
Drops on the windows plays its own jazz.
Laughs at us, overturning umbrellas along with the rising wind.
He pulls the girls by the pigtails, and pours the boys handfuls of water by the scruff of the neck.
He laughs at us, watching as we hide in flocks under the roofs of stops, under trees and at the entrances.
And he takes the hand of those who suddenly decide, throws off their shoes, comes out from under the shelter and slaps barefoot through the puddles.
That's just such a strange, but terribly nice people, the rain is ready to become a friend.
Only he is ready to take them home.
Only for them he will dance.
And only together with them does he feel that it was not in vain that he spilled onto the earth this time.
And now, feeling the euphoria of this insane state of happiness, he suddenly throws a rainbow over us.
And in transparent drops we see his whole multi-colored soul.
You still don't like rain?
And yet try.
Put the umbrella in the far drawer.
Step out into the rain with your arms outstretched and dance with it.
And you might be lucky enough to be a friend of the rain.