Heartstorm

Once upon a time, the skies were gray, thick with clouds of possibility. She stood outside with her eyes closed and her heart trained to see. They rained down, seeping into her skin and flowing deep inside until bittersweet water bubbled up.

The rain coursed through her filling her mind with songs and dreams and poetry and words. So many words. The waters grew into fountains of words until they spilled over onto every page. 

Her eyes ran as pain gushed dark lines onto a heavy book. 

Her mouth smiled as hope splashed gold in among them. 

Her throat bubbled with laughter as curlicues of joy wove across the pages. 

And her heart sighed as it shrank again, and her eyes cleared to a bright new day. 

The sky was empty except the sun, and the clouds were replaced by a seared blue. She smiled in relief at the book in her hands and hugged it close against her heart.

A child walked by, his coat soaked by rain that had nowhere to go. The echoes of it dripped from his eyes, and she held out the book. 

Maybe the words would help him find his own.

A little smile greeted her shyly before disappearing back into his face, and he took the book with outstretched hands, leaving her own empty. 

Emptiness crept through her bones and into her fingertips. She cupped them and looked up at the blank, cruel sky.

Waiting.

She waited. Ready for the pain and the joy and the loss to begin again, so the next child would have the words.

A little cloud began to form at the edge of the sky, and she smiled.