I used to love the rain,
before it made my bones ache
and my joints scream.

Now my muscles swell with the changes
in barometric pressure.
My head dizzy and sore as heat and moisture rise.

I used to love the pitter-patter
of water meeting the windowpanes.
Droplets kissing each other
and moving on.

Gravity pulling them down.
They slither off the windowsill,
collecting in a puddle down below.
A cistern for the creatures
hiding from the storm.

I used to love the sweet dewy smell
rising in the air.
Before the clouds gorged
and cried.

Thunderous wailing.
Rage flashing.
Tears of the sky adorn my house.
Plants rejoice in their long-awaited prayers.

I used to love how rain spoke to the earth.
Showering it with love
and attention.

But now I can only pay attention to my pain.
The beauty of drizzling rain unchanging
but I can no longer see it.

I hold on to the memory of
a time before pain,
when storms only meant rain.