There’s that moment, at the edge of a cloud, when the rain considers.
A splatter of drops, then none, then a splatter more.
Until the cloud says, let’s be done with it, let’s let loose, here we go.
And the rain barrels down, unconstrained, because to the hell with it.
Until, relaxed, the cloud moves on with an end-of-party fade, and the Earth exhales.
It’s not rain. It’s a play in three acts.