Wind is sent to Cloud
Who pours Rain down to Soil. Grow!
Seeds inside emerge.
Imagine despair is like the earth longing for rain until suddenly the wind comes pushing lines of clouds that can’t suspend the heavy droplets anymore so turn into rain…. The earth welcomes each of the raindrops happily, hugs each of all seeds which have been buried beneath the dry layers of soil, almost broken, damps and pushes them up above the ground to grow….
Wind…. It takes just one blow of wind to see beautiful colours.
If you can stop rain,
Try. You will get an award,
Or another job.
In the last two days rain didn’t stop, literally 48 hours down pour. I thought it wouldn’t rain today, cloudy day though. So, well packed I was off to the open air.
As the track was a bit slippery with thin mud, biking speed limit had to be pretty low. With some road block, not much space is there to ride comfortably.
The plan to have lunch while reading didn’t work either as the cafe closed much earlier today and they said the same for tomorrow. It started to rain so no no choice but turning back to home route. The cafe wouldn’t allow me to stay longer ‘coz they would cover all the chairs with tarpaulin soon.
Light rain is good….. in a good day. It felt like itchy needles on skin today. Lucky to cover half of the face with this cute face mask so no one would see this bad mood.
Some plans don’t work. Some days don’t come out nice and bright. Ah…! As long as I’m still alive, it’s ok. I don’t have to stop the rain to enjoy biking. If I can stop rain, I might get an award or a new job as a “rain shaman”. What a busy life if I am…. 😛
Under the railway not far from home…. Let’s sit down and recharge smile battery.
I never want to hurt myself, I just didn’t know who you are. I got hurt by a cactus in a desert Who pricks little fingers, Who just want to touch this life softly, Not hurting, not taking anything away.
Wounded, I decided to blame stupidity: Why did I have to have to have to have to have to just touch cacti? I should have left that arid land long before I touched a prickly spirit.
A delayed regret is less important than a lesson learned but it always gives a story the most significant pivot.
Now I’ll just admire from here From where I stand With millions of prayers For a secret journey. Yet I know you are a ghost days and nights.
Someday when I pour down the rain, You’ll know. Love is as sweet as water in drought— Maybe— If it is not late....