The Arrival…

As I admire the sky brimming with clouds, I begin to have doubts that drift into the scape of our reality. There are so many clouds above yet, the frequency of blue sky patches and sun-peaks make me think the rains will not come and my mood begins spiraling precipitously alongside the perceived dwindling chance of rain. In an attempt to turn the darkened mood around, I say aloud looking towards the darkened grayed sky of thunderheads with deepest sincerity, Thank you,Clouds. While doing so I imagine in my mind’s heart what we’ve been waiting for… A dampening of earth and a smiling forest of deep greened leaves and bark. The feeling of being refreshed from both within and without, I imagine the feeling of humidity upon my skin and the breath of dampened air filling my lungs. 

Not long after my internalized imagery and almost miraculously, the skies darken bringing with them sounds of thunder. In a steady graduation, the blessed rain drops fell. They came on teasingly at first, then commenced onto a thousand-million taps of a drum, sounding the new birth of a new season. My heartbeat drums with refreshed joy in harmonious rhythm to the boisterous drops of rain.

Finally, the monsoon season is upon us. 

In the first break of rains I run outside to find the garden-to-be space darkened with moisture, and in the native ground near my feet is a newly emerged earth star sitting with several outstretched arms. Delighted in just how fast the earthstar appeared, my heart fills with anticipation as I look forward to exploring, and discovering newly emerged beings and things, across a dampened new earth. 

For the rest of the evening, it rains near continuous with varying intensity, while resurrecting from all around, a breath earthly aromas. The healing forest scent fills the air, my lungs and my soul. The rest of the day melts away like a smoldering hot earth in a dreamscape. Only it is real. The long parched earth drinks and drinks until heart’s content, and until the sky determines enough is enough. 

The last thing I hear before drifting off into dreams is the loveliest song of the hermit thrush emanating from the newly moistened forest. The magical tune in the moment, is a tune of wild and deep gratitude for all that is, in the great continuum of life. 

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