The Fragility of a Day

Rain was in the forecast,

yet I drew in sidewalk chalk

because not all that is

must always be

A Storm

Above the world is water dancing in the sky. The humidity rises and water vapor can waltz and flow across the sky. The wind pushes and pulls the water from one end of the heavens to the other. The water dances in the sky.

It collects and combines into clouds, some puffy white others dark and stormy. The clouds eat each other up to form massive congregations of water. Each with its curves and edges and corners and boundaries. Each with its shapes that people transform in their minds. Each with a tummy darker than the rest of it, no matter if it is puffy white or dark and stormy.

The air is heavy with water, and not just the air up in the sky. In through the nose it is heavy and moist, almost tangible to the taste. It is the smell of new leaves and wet paper and fresh skin and cooked greens and clean glass. The skin gets a little cooler and the wind gives it a little kiss. The air is heavy and cool with water giving sign to a storm.

The clouds hover over the earth, waiting and watching. Waiting to collect enough water to drop on the earth below. Watching over everything, but seeing nothing. The clouds above the world, in the midst of dancing water, only waiting to drop what they have collected. Waiting and watching.

And they wait no more.

Down they let their precious cargo, down they let their treasure, down they let their trash, down they let themselves. The rain pours. Each drop sways in the wind, but with a final destination. The water does not dance in the wind anymore. It does not have time to frolic in the sky, but must get to the grass, pond, rooftop, hair, log, leaf, clothing. The rain has a destination, with no mind of its own. And so the wind still tries to get the raindrops to dance.

Off in the distance is a wonderful strike of brilliant light, here one moment and gone another. The lightning shines and shows off its beauty, silently calling to it lover. Waiting for the response back.

One second away

Two seconds away

Three seconds away

Thunder makes itself known, thunder bellows its response to its darling. Thunder yells to all the world that lightning is its mate. Thunder calls to its heart that he will be with her once again. Thunder tells lightning that he will come closer, try harder, be nicer, be softer, be faithful, be kinder, be there. But thunder is known for being rough and far away and being loud and being strong and being free, not a lover. Of breaking promises.

Lightning flashes and dances and spins and twirls and does everything it can to be the best. To be the most beautiful, to be the most stunning, to be the most daring, to be the most of everything. Lightning tries to the win the heart of her lover. Lightning tries and tries.

One second away

Two seconds away

Thunder is enticed and comes closer, wowed by the majesty and splendor of the show lightning put on for him. He wants to use her, he wants to watch her out do herself in competing for his heart. Competing only with her former performance. Thunder watches her dance and dance and try and try. Thunder watches. Waiting for her to fail, for him to find something better.

Lightning breaking trees and sets fire to them, trying to impress thunder. Lightning makes the stars look dim compared to her radiance, trying to impress thunder. Lightning makes the sun look pale, trying to impress thunder. Lightning makes the night sky light up like day, trying to impress thunder. Lightning tries to impress thunder.

One second away

Thunder slowly, sarcastically claps, seeing if he can make lightning try harder to impress him. He wants a show, he wants beauty at its finest or none at all. Thunder waits for more.

Lightning is tired of giving thunder her all. She wants him to love her for who she is – a force of nature meant to be. Not meant to impress because is not she already impressive enough for just being? Lightning wants to see if she won her lover’s heart, not his eyes. Lightning stops trying to impress. Lightning stops. Lightning waits.

Nothing.

Thunder is not there to be impressed. Thunder is only an effect of lightning. Thunder cannot be won because he is only a reflection of lightning. Thunder is nothing without lightning.

Lightning has stopped dancing and so has water. But wind still tries to make the raindrops dance.

Oh, the magnificent science behind a storm, behind clouds, behind the sky. How everything is just right for the water to collect, for the water to fall. For the sky to be illuminated with lightning and to make its presence known with thunder. The science and precision in its own right is a glorious beauty. To be seen with eyes, to be heard with the ears, to be felt with the skin, to be smelled with the nose, to tasted with the mouth; that is another miracle. For one event to bring in all the senses and equally electrify them, is an effect few events have.

 

Pixabay/user:sethink

Raining Impact

Watching the heavy pouring rain

Well, more specifically watching the raindrops

hitting the puddles

The water droplets pelting the the standing water

and their ripples are what interests me

When there is a high amount of rain coming down

The raindrops have little and few ripples,

but have relative high splash up.

When the rain is not as pressured

the drops have no splash but many ripples

***

I believe that is we

as humans

are today.

We all want

and almost need to have

a big splash

something to show for ourselves

But it kicks up

with nothing lasting

not effecting others

Just something to point out

that

‘I did that!’

Leaving no effect on the world

All of us hitting the same area

so constrained

in one place.

Ourselves

***

But when we don’t fall within the masses

we have more lasting effects

Yes, no splash

but slowly

gracefully

we begin to change

the atmosphere

around us

We leave an impression

Though not as many people are

watching

and noticing

the ones who are,

are changed

forever.

***

So do you want a big splash

with people watching

and eventually forgetting?

Or many ripples

a few noticing

but being changed

forever?

Your choice.

We all fall from the same rain cloud

but it’s what you do before

you hit the ground.

leppre / Foter / CC BY

Looks Like Rain is a Comin’

Looks like rain is a comin’

The sky is blackin’

All the clouds begin to morph together

and the sky begins to blur

Humidity runs high

I sigh

The wind toys with my hair

and I begin to feel a chill in the air

the leaves flip to show their underside

Silver Maple, I identified

The sprinkles on my head make me wonder

if it’s really rain, until I hear the thunder

Looks like rain is a comin’

It came

The fields blow

to shelter I go

The birds hide

and the worms come out to die

A tree gives way

but it was dead anyway

The sidewalks are pelted

From a window, everything is melted

but that’s only from the inside

Nature is alive for the first time outside

Looks like rain is a comin’

It came

I begin to ponder

and my thoughts become a whir

Why am I hiding in here?

It’s just rain, nothing severe

Am I afraid of getting wet?

Water is no threat

It’s just the normal thing to do

been taught to always withdrew

I ask myself the whys?

Then I realize what it symbolize

The rain

is the troubles we disdain

We begin to see the problems coming

but still don’t believe the impending

and keep on saying ‘Looks like rain is a comin”

but don’t do a thing

until it came

and we give it a name

like divorce, or abuse, or death

We stop to take a breath

and remember when

we said

Looks like rain is a comin’

and whisper softly ‘It Came’

And so I decide

(with some pride)

I should take this chance

to go dance

in the rain, to enjoy my tribulations

and give all of my burdens

to the heavens

Looks like rain is a comin’

It came

and I’m okay.

We Are Like the Raindrops

The little bubbles of not air

Floating, yet clinging to air

Still able to be seen through

Every time it cries, they are seen

They blur and reflect

They’re essence is that of us, reflecting

Our lives are so much alike

Holding on to hope, all of us humans alike

Sometimes we wonder if our transparence

is as seen through as their transparence

The bubbles are so little and fragile

Our emotions are so fragile

Then comes the wind

Then comes the wind

They fly away

as we do too, go away

Become like star flying pass

We think we are in the present, but really we’re in the pass

Just clinging

Just clinging

Just cling to hope

Isn’t that all we have, hope?

Hope, faith, and love

Hope and faith in making the right decision, and if wrong – love

They make fractals

We see through fractals

Watching the raindrops

from my window and out into the air, they drop

We are like the raindrops