Yesterday night it rained
And I was caught out there
In my black scarf
And shaven head

I don’t mind the rain much
I was heading home after all
To warm clothes and a hot shower
And a cup of steaming milk tea thereafter

So I didn’t run in the rain
Like people around me did

But I wondered;
Why hate rain so much
When glaring city lights
Look so gentle and scenic
In it’s hazy persona

Why hate the rain
When its misty air

Makes drab life look as mystical
As something out of a poetic film?

Is it the cold we feel?
And isn’t cold a state of mind?

Isn’t hardship?

To one it’s oppressive and painful
A chance to break down and die
To another it’s a challenge
To conquer and laugh about in time

Isn’t cold merely a state of mind?

And so with Enya singing to me
Of time giving darkness and dreams
I hug myself warm
And walk slowly in the downpour

The rain isn’t angry anyway
Its just pattering away
As rain should;
On everything
And not just at me

So I close my eyes
Step readily on water puddles
With my open shoes
And as I lick the delicious cool droplets
That fall on my tongue and on me
I pretend to be a tree


2 thoughts on “TO BE A TREE

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