There are rains that make loud announcements of its arrival. Clouds gather, hefty winds blow in space and tend to dislocate everything around us. And then there are rains that incessantly drop down at its own pace, pretty much quietly. We often name these as drizzles. They continue for hours without even making its presence felt. What sweeps away the mind is the sudden downpour. Out of the blue, they make a powerful statement of who they are.
This range creates a bare rocky mind, with steep hill sides. At the edge lies the memories that you can neither take back or shun away from. Suddenly rearing up in front of the tired discouraged soul, there is a sight of a short green grass, trickling through it sliver of clear water. You have perhaps not noticed it before how it has been growing tall slowly from the mud pot trying to tell you that its out in the world.
The nearby stones become smooth with the rain on them. The rain does that for all, soothes an injured heart. Somewhere between clarity and simplicity, life has lost its way. Nevertheless like a compulsory traveler, I walk through its bends and twists. It still knows its destination; clouded with fog and mystery. It is this mist that the rain helps to clear.
Rains are the best aphrodisiac in the world. We cannot destroy our memories until we destroy ourselves. And with all their damp and decay, it still appears as glittering diamonds in an underground cave, waiting for someone to capture and treasure in a whole new look, for one more time.
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