I love rain that falls straight down, with no wind to push it around. Long heavy drops in gentle free fall. The pains grey sky easing its suffering by just letting go, un-coerced.
As the barometer drops so to do my defenses. Something deep in me feels permission to open its pores and everything becomes enchanted and connected.
I can feel the earth soaking up the cool grace of sky letting go. And yet there remains on the broad leaf and hard surface, some beads of tension, still bound, waiting for the sun to return and release them, to raise them up again.
And what about the water-cycle of the soul of man, governed by the will and this membrane of separate self ? Perhaps a simple, porous yes, and we dissolve into one.