The Rain,steps like a Dancer upon the pavement,alternating at once between Cotton Stockings and Slashing Steel. Blindly Beautiful,yet Gray and morose,twisting,entwining with the Sticky Heat and the Heaviness of the Bosom of Gardenias in full bloom,like a Specter forever trapped in its own spiral of Mirage and Perfume. Doomed to forever fight the Dance to Rise and twirl,even as the knives of rain do their best to shred it into a million,transparent fragments of Memories that flash like the Lightning that bring it. Against the Gray ,angry clouds, the snippets of the scent of joy,and carefree abandon catch the Heart,if only for a brief moment,and then are gone as quickly as they arrive. Like the memories of the Rush of First Love,Stolen Kisses and Sky. Then comes the clarity of the colors of the Universe,the Greens of the Palms,The Violent Fuchsia of the Bougainvillea,fighting to be heard in the cacophony of brief color,against the backdrop of Black and Blue Horizon. A gentle breeze kisses the cheek,to remind one of such lovely glory,even as more tears threaten to fall from the Canopy of the Stars in a petulant jealous rage that the Earth is more loved than itself. Indeed,Pain does bring absolute Beauty, in the Monsoon Rains of sully and sweet September.
Posted on: Fri, 19 Sep 2014 23:39:08 +0000