I woke up at 5:41 this morning

I woke up at 5:41 this morning and noted the lovely, quiet shade of blue the sky was.
To my delight and pleasure, I soon realized it was gently raining.
Now I have always loved rain, because it is such a comfort to me when sleeping.
And as I stood looking out of a window, my black cat, fur wet from the rain outside, winds in and out and around and through and around my legs,
I think about rain.
Because really; What is rain?
Perhaps the trees give up their moisture to the clouds so that the clouds may cry for the trees, because the trees cannot cry for their lost brothers and sisters, but the clouds can for them.
Maybe rain is the tears of all those who have cried reused, raining down every now and then to remind us that there is such thing as sadness, but by watering us and our plants and whatnot, that life goes on.
Rain may be the tears of those who have left.
Rain may be something more complex than ever, but that doesn't stop it from comforting me for no real reason at all.