April's [Independent] Showers

Into every life a little rain must fall. In that microcosm of fluidity, it's difficult to see the naturally occurring rainbows. As a flood, a fisheye lens of distortion begs the question even more. 

Where, then, is the creative mind in the moments after early dawn, when a molten sun lifts shrouds of mist once more to ungrateful skies? Shedding salty tears of grief and confusion, stroking grimly for a distant shore, a miasma of pseudo-reality bent on wringing every last droplet of hope into an overfull waste basket. 

The scent of damp earth on a spring morning, the haunting touch of forest cobwebs, the taste of water from a familiar spring, the distinctive, haunting song of wild birds. The depth of grounding echoes through a sparkling, shattered soul, leaving silence in its wake.

Into that, a single raindrop makes its way, and the story is thus written. 

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4-28-2021 ©️by @_RLMT.