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Took a deep breath.
Closed my eyes.
Felt the rain.
And listened to its sound
…soft and sweet and…I’m wet
Startled, I suddenly opened my eyes. Thunder. So loud I thought it was right behind me. They were like raging little tykes, chasing and boasting to each other about who could give the loudest roar.
Another deafening BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!
I jumped from my bed. Definitely not a dream anymore. I was really wide awake. I had fallen asleep from my afternoon readings. I looked outside. It was really raining. I stood up and opened the door to my mini porch. The cool wind, the nice familiar smell and sound of rain all greeted me aloha.
I closed my eyes. I may not be able to touch and feel heaven’s drippings, yet I was savoring the moment, taking in as much as I can of heaven’s blessings
It was a bit humid earlier. No wonder I felt somewhat lazy and had fallen asleep. The temperature had dropped and I was feeling more slothful, the effect of rain in an unhurried time.
It would have been nice to curl back to bed and return to my book. Hmmm… that can wait though. The hero will definitely stay on the pages. But not the rain. Not an afternoon like this. Maybe I should have gotten my brushes and paints instead. Yet, my hands felt heavy, too. Not in the mood to do some strokes. Oh well, better spread these arms and inhale the glorious lazy rainy afternoon…hmmm, Life.
I decided to have a perfect moment by getting myself a drink. It would have been a nice brewing coffee, just like in TV commercials, if I had someone to share it with, to pass time over funny stories, weaving dreams or to simply enjoy some comfortable silence. But then, it was only me, myself and I. So, a hot cocoa for all of me did the trick.
I sat down on the floor of my porch and made myself lost in this some sort of rain trance. The chocolate-brown wall (of my next building neighbor which blocked my view of the beautiful world beyond) added drama to my mood. Since it was washed clean, I mentally converted the wall as a canvass for my idle musings. In the eyes of my mind, I painted on it with bold vivid colors memories of my childhood taking showers in the rain— mud, incessant laughter, silly dancing and singing, splashes, lips-turned-blue shivering in cold. And I can distinctly hear mother calling me in, but what deaf ears I turned to her!
“Surely not until the rain stops,” the little imp in me said and the fun continued.
I indulged myself to this simple bliss even as a grown up. It is my metaphor of a soothing balm to an aching heart or disconcerted spirit in need of some precipitated peace, making me feel like a whole new being after, like a child reborn.
Oh, if only I could do it again at this instance! All those unnecessarily crowding my thoughts would be washed away and I might have a clearer mind then.
When I get home I’ll dance in the rain on the first chance.
Meantime, I can only sigh and…smile.
The smell of my hot cocoa summons me back to the present. Sipping it gingerly, I mentally sketch in charcoal the happy portrait of my two dear friends on the wall. I believe they were the ones I was looking for in my dream earlier. I wonder why they left me in that scene. Could it be that in real life, both of them are getting married soon? Just 3 months apart and I wouldn’t be around to witness it. While me, still telling the Universe to let me meet my Mr. The One.
Yoooohhooo, Universe and all cosmic powers out there! Did you take note of my order? I’m sure you did. What’s the delay? Traffic on the cosmic highways? Has the green light taken some vacation to Timbuktu?
Now I can see those invisible highways taking form on the brown wall with the yellow light facing me. Oh, well… WAIT? GET SET? Either – or, it’s still not the signal for GO.
The downpour has become a soft drizzle when my gaze is directed to something bright red under my wooden chair nearby. I reach for it. A flower. The same kind that I would mysteriously find on my porch coincidentally on days I feel rather gloomy missing home or happily celebrating simple joys, like rain and hot drinks. Only one flower each time. I received a handful already considering the withered ones I collected in a small bowl at the corner.
I wonder about the how, who/what, why of it. Not from a close by plant as none is seen around my area. Could it be from some unknown feathered friends? Perhaps.
Or could it be the wind bringing them to me? On selected days only? Placed around the same area? Same flower? Though the size varied. But hey, what are the chances?
Or could it be from…?
Nah, that’s too far out. Just too cosmically far out!
“So, humor me,” imagination said to logic
Oh right, maybe just a universally gargantuan MAYBE, traffic has been decongested on cosmic highways at last with green light back from its Timbuktu vacation. Ha, that would be the day!
I place my little red floral gift behind my ear and on the brown wall – turned canvass, I paste a sepia photograph of a woman sitting on the floor of her mini porch happily sipping a nice brewed coffee. Not so alone with me, myself and I anymore.
I lean back, hug my knees while slowly sipping my cup of hot cocoa. For now. It continues to rain softly…and with gratefulness, I smile knowingly.
Some idle musings it is.
This one lazy rainy afternoon.