why do angels love the rain?
I. because what is more holy than the life essence that pours from the sky, when humans say that Heaven is built upon the blue above them; when they worship the water and the seas, when they call water the lifebringer, who are we to argue?
II. because the mists taste sweet on our tongues, like crystalline sugar poured from an endless glass, free and glittering and irresistible, and there is no use in resisting a pleasure so pure.
III. because humans and the earth are both two-thirds water, and every drop that slides down our throats makes us more aware of the world we are sworn to watch over, and the truest among us drink deep, hoping to understand.
IV. because being without wings is being without a shield, without safety, and while being soaked to the skin makes us all too aware of how weak we are, having a jacket plastered to our backs almost feels like wings again.
V. because we can hear the wind singing, constructing a prophetic melody out of thousands of molecules brushing trees and buildings, and though our minds do not speak the languages of Heaven our souls still do, and perhaps if we listen hard enough we will remember how to speak the words of the air.
Vi. because after the War, it rained in a torrent matched only by the Flood, and each time the lightning struck every one of the Host reeled, thinking it was the Fallen breaking through once more; we were and are tired, so very tired of War, and when the thunderstorms come we clutch each other tight in the hopes that this time we will stop shaking.
VII. because there are three thousand white flags in the field, glimmering with dewdrops, and men standing there screaming, screaming about three thousand lost souls, condemning sins that the Father never spoke of, and the drops on our cheeks turn salty with someone else’s tears as we silently, with what little power we have left, absolve.
VIII. because it does not rain in Heaven.
