Poetry of Rain

I noticed the young girl standing on the porch watching the rain pouring down. Unsure of whether I should approach her and disrupt her solitude, I took the risk and sauntered nonchalantly up to the steps. When I reached her, I caught the soothing sound of poetry being quoted beneath the splatter of raindrops. 

“Who wrote those beautiful words,”  I asked?

“Just a girl I know,” she stated quietly.

“She must be quite the writer,” I replied.

“Really? You really think so?” I mean, “yes, maybe, I don’t know…” as she quickly dropped her head.

As I walked away, I could see her beaming with a glint of hope in her eyes. Instantly, it confirmed for me that she had written those words moments before while contemplating why life often felt meaningless.