Rain drizzles into a downpour just outside — the specks of water leaking down my window as if the earth herself were crying.
But no… she is celebrating. Washing away and caring for herself and her shadows.

I envision a woman standing out there, bare, as the rain tickles her skin — leaving delicate kisses against the fabric of her being.
The shadows of my mind whisper… some to harm… some to protect.
They are standing there like hidden statues as their hands tenderly caress her while the rain seeps into their form — rippling through, cleaning away the pain and harm.

The shadows become guardians of her.

I look at the vision of her as she stares at me — eyes tired, but relief washes across her face as she reaches and removes the mask that cloaked her true identity.
I find I am staring at myself as she smiles softly back at me and raises her hands to the rain, throwing her head back.

Her chest bounces with the joy of laughter, and I find myself joining her — leaving the darkened chambers of my room to dance in the rain as I am becoming her.

Relieved and cool to the touch, I now lay in the grass.
My shadows look to the sky above me.
The grey clouds paint beautiful soft lavenders, blues, and greys…

As I lay, I know —

all shall be well.