Once in a while you should get lost in the wilderness at night under a sky filled with stone grey clouds. It is just about to rain. The dense forest offers no help. You have no company except an occasional creaking cicada or a hooting owl calling into the night. You are not wandering aimlessly. You know you are searching for something. You just don’t know what that something is. Yet, this not-knowing does not bother you too much. Your stomach is rumbling in tune with the clouds overhead. You are slightly hungry. But that doesn't bother you either. It’s almost as if you are waiting for something important to happen. You don’t know what it is but you know it is inevitable. The heavy anticipation is almost tangible.
Just then the clouds break open with an announcing clap of thunder. The first drops of cold rain splash on your heated skin sending a shiver down your spine, just like your first kiss. The tension is broken. You don’t even bother to look for shelter because you know that the rain will bring answers. You just face the lashing gushes of water with open arms and closed eyes. The cloudburst is incessant, drenching you to the heart. The water is almost drowning you. You can hardly breathe. All you can feel is the cold water piercing into your skin. And suddenly you are one. You are the rain. You are flowing. You are free. You are dancing on the tree tops, on the mountains, in the lake. It is, as if, you never existed and yet you are forever.