Somewhere I read that your truths are revealed to you at times of great distress. What has been revealed to me is this: I would gladly fall into your abyss and anchor my heart onto your raging sea, be slammed against the rocks repeatedly at every turn of the tide than drift aimlessly into a world without sight, touch, and smell of you.
Perhaps this molding of my heart into the small of your palm is the desire to remain worthy of your affections despite the incessant fall of rain on this path we have carved for ourselves. Hearts somewhere find comfort in the rain, however mine remains hopeful at the prospect of (successfully) braving the eroding waters.
Here's a prayer sent to the high heavens and whispered to whoever wants to listen: Allow the rain to beat down on us mercilessly to carve for smarter roads, stronger hearts and deeper underground recesses, where we turn to for strength when life decides it isn't done with us yet.
So in this season of water we blossom.