Tears of rain

The sky was of gold. Magic, splendid beautiful. In the distance, black clouds accumulated. They grew bigger, being stretched around the cathedral, coming to choke the gold nuggets. The pressure went up little by little. The gold nuggets sought to flee. They struggled this so particular bright light of the last glare of the day. But the surrounding of the black clouds intensified unrelentingly. The anguish was done throbbing. I was impotent spectator in front of this announced death. Stupidly, I tightened the hand of an involuntary gesture. Why did I do it? I do not know anything of it. My finger touched the sky, bursting the gold bubble which had been formed. Then this continuous luminous flood spouted out coming to cover the cathedral. In the sky, the clouds were gone from there crying of rain