“Can you stand the rain?”, they ask.
Of course I can.
In fact, I love it.
While others are overwhelmed by the grey, heavy skies,
cold bundling them up like Eskimos (Inuit…sorry),
I revel in this outpouring of mercy from above.
The pitter-patter of droplets falling steadily,
forming perfect, concentric circles –
ripples spreading outwards before dissipating,
like the impact of man –
whose actions touch all that surrounds him,
echoing one moment in time –
by the nearby scribes of our deeds – both good and bad.
single drops joining to form impromptu streams,
gently transporting debris and dead leaves
to resting places in stormwater sewers.
So too do moments in time gather,
transporting our youth towards inevitable decline,
and eventual rest
in graves waiting to be filled
with corpses dead and cold,
accompanied by souls – young and old.
And, like this dry, dead earth is revitalised
by the touch of water, pure and good,
sprouting vegetation of varying hues and tastes,
so too will these bodies be revived one day.
And that which we planted in our lives –
seeds of beauty,
or those of ruin –
will manifest before our re-awoken eyes,
as we taste the fruits of our earthly endeavours.
So, as this rain comes tumbling down,
revel in its joys and blessings,
but be conscious of its lessons.
For life is passing us by –
moment by moment –
and when that final second arrives,
may it come with tears of joy,
as we embrace the next stage
of our voyage to Eternity.
Background image is from here.
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