Posts Tagged ‘rain’

A Rainy Day in Madison

Wednesday, September 30th, 2015

I woke up to the sound of rain against the window. It was the first time in a long time I had heard rain calling me outside. I lay in my bed listening and for the first time it became real. I knew I was very far from home; I knew that I was no longer in California and would not be returning for quite some time. In many ways this whole trip has been so surreal. A strange mixture between road trip and living in a bunch of different states. I bounce from one location to the next, usually with someone I know waiting at the end of my drive so it never feels like I am truly alone. But this morning I woke up and felt alone. I felt far from my friends, family, and all that was familiar to me. I felt it ringing in the rain drops like a vibrating siren and each drop sang out the sound of total strangeness. It was an odd moment, of finally letting it sink in that I wasn’t going home, at least not for a while. I had to make a home wherever I could find it now.

For now home is with my Aunt in Madison but even that is not for long. I pulled my tired body from bed and looked outside at the cardinal on the bird feeder below, unfazed by the rain and even more vibrant in it. The roads ran like rivers and the fall leaves had been glued to my car like some child’s scrapbook of autumn.

On our way to explore Madison we first stopped to get some really great coffee and Colectivo. A roomy coffee shop with huge windows, bright furniture, and great study spaces, Colectivo was definitely instantly on my favorite coffee spot list.

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I took my coffee out into the cold rain to warm my fingers as we explored the state capital building. It was truly a magnificent piece of architecture and I loved escaping from the rain under their marbled ceilings and fancy decor.
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It was quite the place and the square that it sat in was surrounded by adorable shops and fantastic restaurants.

After we had circled the captial building a few times, marveling at the architecture from every angle, we drove through the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus. Going through campuses that are closer to the east coast always impress me because they are so thoroughly different from west coast campuses. The buildings are older, crafted from beautiful stone or brick and much more ornate than the average west coast campus building. I love my alma mater but I cannot help comparing the architecture between campuses and I was thoroughly impressed with the Madison campus.

At the far end of campus we stopped at the Allen Centennial Gardens, a small enclosure of nature next to an old historic home. The gardens, though small, were marvelous. Even in the rain, the vibrant crops like kale, colorful swiss chard, and of course corn, were incredibly beautiful.

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There were some really unique looking flowers, like the ones below, that lit up the entire park with vivid colors. IMG_9697

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From boardwalks to koi ponds, gazebos to vegetable gardens the entire garden was surprisingly entertaining. After marveling at the entire complex we continued on our way.

We decided to poke in at the Henry Villa Zoo. It was a fun little zoo but the alligator was by far my favorite. I had been taking pictures of the fall leaf littered pool, not realizing it was an alligator enclosure until afterwards when I looked at my pictures. It surprised me so much that I hadn’t even noticed the alligator lying quietly below the leaves.

There were also some adorable little badgers having a fun time digging around in the mud, which was pretty quintessential for all of Wisconsin. Go Badgers :)

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After the zoo, my aunt and I parted ways for a bit and I went off on my own to the University’s Arboretum for a hike. It was pretty, but also pretty marshy so my hike kept getting cut short by closed pathways. But what I did see was quite nice; the variety of different trail landscapes that I set foot on in just the few short miles I was able to hike was staggering. It was a wonderfully diverse park filled with prairies, lakes, and flowers.

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We finished out day with a sunset mini walk along some overgrown boardwalks next to Lake Monona. Stepping over a natural bubbling spring, we walked along the creaking old wooden planks along the rim of the lake watching the sky turn pink under wispy clouds. IMG_9754 IMG_9755

It was a good first day in Madison (finished with some really great pizza) but I am finding myself growing more and more tired as each day passes. Michigan is only one day away of driving from where I am now and I can feel the closeness in my road wearied bones. I have been traveling now for exactly two weeks and I have been alone for one week; it feels like a lifetime.

A good rest is in order soon and I know it awaits me on the shores of Lake Superior, so close yet so far from where I am now. For now, there is still more work to be done, more things to see, and always another adventure around the corner.

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The Face in the Forest

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2015

The rain against the window pane sounds like chimes in the wind; a sound I have not heard for quite some time in California where the land is dry as old bones being bleached in the sun. Soothing and persistent the rain falls here in Durango as I sit in a coffee shop called the Steam Bean in the historic downtown of Durango. The crowd has slowly multiplied as the sidewalks become drenched in water and the awnings drip continuously. I have missed this. Rain, no matter where I am, always makes me feel instantly like I am home. Maybe it is the smell of the earth that rises when the rain falls, petrichor, that rattles around in my brain like a phone call from a friend you have talked to in ages. Maybe it is the feeling of being unabashedly alive as the cold water hits your face and stings with the freshness of new life springing from dry soil. I am not sure, I have never known why or how the rain can make any place feel like home, all I know is that it does. So I sit in this cafe full of college students studying, businessmen working, women chatting of chai lattes, a woman in black making jewelry, and a group of weary backpackers joyously reunited after a month on a backcountry trail and feel like I have always been here.

Before the rain there was a cloudy morning out on the trail. We began our day, after Gabe finished class, with a hike up Animas City Mountain. We climbed up the switchbacks in a very different sort of setting than the previous hikes that were enveloped in the branching arms of colorful aspens. This trail was more arid with cacti, bare twisting trees growing out of boulders, and small but colorful wildflowers.

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Amongst the scenery we found a hidden gem that we almost passed by: a face in the low lying forest skillfully carved into a tree stump.

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We then continued on along the trail and made it to the viewpoint that overlooked the entire city of Durango and the Animas River snaking out of town towards the surrounding mountains.

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We sat on the edge of the mountain enjoying the view and reveling in the beauty that this amazing town has to afford.

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This is my brother’s city, his home and I am so grateful that I have been able to see it through his eyes and experience the things he has grown to love about his new home. It has been almost a week since I left California and soon I will be moving on from Durango to continue on my way. I have only been here a short while and I wish it didn’t have to end, but there is still so much to see and do.

But for now, I am here, right here with the rain on the window even though my mind is already a thousand miles away. Being present is something I have always struggled with and now is when it means the most to be in the moment and I won’t let this experience pass me by. Here I am, I am Here.

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The Hat

Thursday, November 29th, 2012

Windy, cloudy, stormy days always remind me of this poem. It is an older one but I thought I would repost it today just because I always think of this poem on a day like today.

The woman walks
Along in a crowded street
Surrounded by people
Yet so alone
A scarf like a noose
Wrapped around her frail neck
Hands shoved deep
Into her pockets
She only looks
At the ground
The rhythmic step of her feet
Her wide hat
Shields her from the world
She ignores them
Is afraid of them
She wraps herself tighter
In what is safe and comforting
And is content in isolation
So she walks along
In a crowd of people
Without faces
The wind picks up
For a moment it whispers
A soft secret in her ear
A riddle told to fast
As the wind
Carried her hat away
The woman let out
A short little gasp
As her barrier was removed
She reached forward
Fingertips grazing it
Just out of reach
As it bounces and rolls
Along the dirty street
She chases in vain
And no one will help
Finally out of breath
And out of heart
She gives up
Standing in the crowd
Puffs of winter breath
Clouding before her as she watches
Her hat dance away
Her hair billowing about her
Watching with sad longing eyes
She stands still among thousands
As she turns to leave
A tap on her shoulder
She turns in surprise
A man stands before her
Her hat in hand
Holding it out towards her
A smile but no words
She takes it and offers
A shy little smile in return
As she starts to pull it
Back into place
He reaches out to stop her
Why
He asks her
You have such a pretty face
He smiles and lets go
Giving an impartial shrug
You don’t need to hide
You are beautiful you know
He leaves her with
His few soft words
And a knowing smile
She stands there
Hat in hand
Filled with his offerings
Her eyes are wide
And her hands slightly quake
She lifts the hat
Looking at it now
And tosses it away
She watches it
Flit and dance in the sky
Gone forever
She smiles slightly
The stranger’s knowing smile
She doesn’t need it anymore

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Petrichor

Thursday, July 5th, 2012

Rain drops danced on the window sill, running their fingers gently against the glass with longing sighs as they settled into seas of water only to be disturbed again by the next drop. The tulips wilting on the inside of the window breathed in the warm air of the house, yet still could not bloom as they watched with drooping faces the disturbance on the window sill. All was quiet in the house except for the gentle tapping of the rain on the window pane like a young lover throwing rocks to awaken his sleeping beauty. Across the white walls of the small apartment lay splashes of life that were too wild and untamed to be contained to a single wall let alone one skinny apartment space. The solitary apartment stood isolated on the ground floor of a building centered in New York’s sprawling system of roads, where it alone seemed vibrant and alive. Roads like the pathways of a body filled with the ever awake but seemingly never living people of the city that never sleeps. Separated by thin capillary walls from the bustle of the dark and dirty streets lay the hidden white walls of her home. The macabre symphony of art was pinned to the walls in a random yet insistently purposeful manner that blossomed from a young and wild heart. The Van Gogh imitations to the typography, and the old photographs of people she had never known filled the spaces of the white wall with color and life that she mastered and owned but still was not her own. The very walls jittered with a peaceful happiness where her fingers had traced along the walls as she had run through the tight hallways and rooms. Every window, every space had been filled by her loving hands so no spot would feel alone or empty. She was kind.

Curled in a sea of billowy white comforters, she lay like a goddess who held the fiery force of life in her chest. Silent and still but very much alive. Her red wavy hair lay around her head like a sunset framing her face. Gnarled and twisted it lay like the warriors of fallen battles, stained by their own blood and those of their enemies. She breathed peacefully with her eyes gently closed. Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings and opened. Noses almost touching she gazed into his eyes and he right back. He hadn’t stopped looking. He reached out with a hand and ran it along her cheek, tracing the contours of her face with his thumb until he reached her ear and ran his fingers through her wild hair. She smiled and scrunched her face, twisting her nose to the side slightly as she always did. He laughed. She smiled. They lay there in the sea of clouds built by human hands facing each other, watching each other, listening to the rain as it danced outside.

“We should probably move at some point.” He whispered playfully

She smiled and looked at him with green eyes and watched as the rain danced in his blue eyes. He smiled slightly, the way he always did, as if he was afraid to laugh out loud or widen his face with a smile.

“Why would we move, when we could stay right here and listen to the rain until it stops. We can’t let the rain outlast us can we now?” she smiled as she propped herself up on an elbow to look at him from above.

“Oh ok, I guess we don’t have to move. I was just going to say I would make breakfast… or lunch I guess,” he said looking down at his watch and the hours, which had been thrown to the wind. “Suit yourself then, I am good here.”

He rolled onto his back with his hands clasped behind his head, smiling playfully and closing his eyes. She pounced on him, throwing herself across his stomach. He let out a grunt and a laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“You can’t do that!” she howled with mock tragedy.

“It was your choice, not mine.” He shrugged as he grabbed her arms, which assaulted his chest. Holding both of her wrists in one of his large palms he held her tight and she struggled even though she didn’t care if she never escaped.

“Well I changed my mind” she whispered right in his face as she leaned in only inches from his face. It escaped her almost as a snarl as her hair hung in front of her determined fiery eyes.

Just like that she sprang away, dancing out of his reach like a whirlwind of red hair and laughter. Her feet carried her across the wooden floor to the window where the tulips sat sadly waning against the glass. She frowned for a faint moment but it was chased across her face by the noise of the pattering rain. She threw open the window with a surge of motion that shook the tulips and the puddles on the windowsill. She leaned on the windowsill over her flowers staring into the rain. She felt her face so close to it, but it was just beyond her, beyond the window, beyond the tulips, but almost there. She breathed in deeply. Petrichor.

Propped up on his elbows, he surveyed her in the window’s soft light, which cast her hair like fire down her back. He smiled softly to himself watching her as she busied herself among her flowers and things. He shook his head with a soft chuckle, “Every time I get you flowers they just wilt and die, you have to learn to share some of that life that you have or else no one else will get any.”

“That’s not fair, I share everything I have, most of all with my flowers.” She cast him a glance and a wayward smile without turning to face him. With only that sideways glance she let out a less than phased grunt and cast herself down the hallway with a ballerina’s grace away from the billowy comforters and into another room cast with light. Again, he shook his head incredulously at the sprite that flitted around the house.

“Oh! Shoot, I am sorry I totally forgot to tell you, you got some mail yesterday. I didn’t recognize who it was from, I think it was a bank or something. ”

She bent backwards into his view from the room down the hall so he could barely see her outline in the soft light split against the shadow of the hallway. “Really?” there was a note of some sort of expression in her voice he did not recognize. He sat up fully to try and see her face but she was too far. With his head slightly cocked he waited for her to say something else, but nothing else came.

“You alright?” he asked warily.

Her silhouette had disappeared from the hallway now, he leaned in to try and spot her but she was curiously absent.

“Everything is fine, I will be right back.” He watched as he figure passed across the hallway as she went towards the back door where their mailman of five years now still did not understand that that was not their front door. Every day he left their mail at the wrong door for them to discover in a small but haphazard pile.

She walked with lithe and light footsteps a smile on her face and a suppressed shriek of joy that she hid in fear of ruining her surprise. She tried to be normal, she tried to remain calm but she knew that the wedding invitations along with a surprise trip for them to take before they finally got married after almost six years of being together. Her chest felt full to bursting with a joy that could almost not be contained. She picked up the mail that she had disguised as a bank note so he wouldn’t look into it and ripped it open with savage excitement. Two tickets for Paris for their honeymoon six months from now.

Peaking down the hallway to make sure he wasn’t looking she retreated into the corner of the back room and danced wildly in a circle her red hair flying around her as she bit her knuckle to keep from screaming in excitement. She was about to empty the vase of flowers to hide the tickets under the red roses from their date last week when she noticed the other letter. Pausing for an unsure moment she contemplated her next course of action. Holding the flower vase in the crook of her arm still she picked up the remaining letter which must have just arrived and wondered if she should leave it for later and go display the wedding invites. After a brief moment she tore open the new letter without even looking at the return address.

Tapping his foot against the hard wood floor as his bare feet hung over the edge of the mattress of comforters they had built on the floor, he waited. Humming a soft song he had known his entire life he watched from his seated position as the rain fell into the house from the open window above the flower, which gently swayed in the wind. Shaking his head with a chuckle and that little smile of his he pushed himself to his feet shaking off the clouds of comforter to go close the window. She had such life but because of it she seemed to underestimate the fragility of the life of the things around her. That was why her flowers died, it wasn’t a lack of love or life, it was an abundance of it. She was his warrior with her wild hair and fiery eyes. He smiled as he thought of her leaning on the open windowsill as she had done. He wondered what it was like to be her, to be invincible to the world. He placed his hands on the windowsill where hers had rested pushing his face out towards the rain. But he saw nothing, nothing of what she saw even in her place. He tried, he really did try to live more like her but no matter how hard he tried to stop and live a life of carefree joy he would always be the shy boy with too much reservation for his own good. He was a quiet man.

He started to shut the window when the loud crash of the clay vase shattering on the hard wood floor startled him enough to make him jump. That loud crack shattered the tranquility of the house in a matter of seconds, the uninterrupted serenity of their house had never before been disturbed as it was now and it shook his entire being. Then the terrible silence. A silence never before heard or seen. Frozen, the house and its inhabitants, human and plant alike, even the art seemed to leer from the walls, waited on the edge of that vast chasm of silence as the sound of that terrifying silence grew and grew filling every corner of the house until it rang in all of their ears even louder than a scream. The sound that interrupted it was not a bang but the feather soft sound of paper gently floating to the ground to settle as a dandelion on the wind comes to rest on the blade of a serene grass meadow where no human foot has ever graced. That soft but perceivably sound ended the terrible silence but not the horror. With perked ears he listened with a mute tongue but frantic eyes as he heard her soft footsteps coming down the hallway. She was not walking but running very lightly down the hallway, her silhouetted figure eventually blotting out the backlight until she stood before him. She paused for only one moment as they both looked at each other across the room from each other.

“Honey, what-“

He opened his arms for her as he had done so many times before when something was wrong welcoming her into the sheltered harbor of his arms but even as he did so he could see this was different. He never got to finish that question in that moment as she eyed him as if she was a hunted animal and he the vicious predator. That guarded and hurt look in her eyes shut his mouth in one moment. She had never looked at him like that and he felt it like a stake in his heart. He moved in to try to embrace her but in one deft movement she leapt out of his reach towards the bathroom where she slammed and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” he yelled not out of anger but a fear that was slowly welling in his chest. “Please open the door and talk to me! Tell me what is wrong!” He banged on the door with his huge open faced palm. There was no reply. He pressed his ear against the door and listened. All he could hear was the soft rustling of her movements. “Please” he whispered into the door with his eyes closed. The fear had grown inside of him filling every part of his body like a terrible poison feasting on his veins burning them while his blood still pumped. The sickening feeling that something was horribly wrong drew down the corners of his mouth bringing back the lines of frowns that he had almost forgotten and resurfacing the unsure and reserved fear within him.

The rustling stopped for a brief moment and he heard the soft and barely audible sound of a moan that sounded too wounded to be entirely human. That pitiful noise ripped his heart apart and he pounded on the door anew, yelling for her to open the door.

She sat in the bathtub hugging her knees to her chest as she rocked back and forth. She had madly thrown on new clothing and shoes but then lost the strength and seemingly the ability to move at all. So she lay curled in the tub with her knees hugged and one fist held against her horribly contorted mouth as she held back the sobs of a dying animal. Her wild red hair lay wilted against her face, wetted by her tears and fallen in its glory. A dull ringing in her ears muted the sound of the banging on the door and the screams of the man that loved her and she him. Her whole being was numb, that numbness spread like a poison throughout her body until she felt absolutely nothing. The rocking ceased and she lay there in the tub, listless and empty. With the numbness came resolution, not bothering to wipe her face she slowly stood and faced the door.

“Please, just leave me alone. I don’t love you.”

The knocking stopped and the second terrible silence struck like a clap of thunder. Stumbling back a few steps, he stared with wide eyes at the bathroom door. The soft voice which had whispered I love you so many times was now hollowed and coarse. He blinked in shock as he replayed that voice in his mind, the hollow voice with nothing in it at all, no joy, no love, and no life. Looking over his shoulder he took in every moment they had ever shared in this house together, five years of experiences, of life in every ounce of the house that screamed to be remembered.

“I don’t believe you.” He whispered in a voice weak and drained.

The bathroom door flung open and she burst forth like a fire behind closed doors running for the front door. He jumped and intersected her, engulfing her in his broad arms. Grabbing onto her as if he would never let her go she fought like a caged animal. Viciously she kicked and squirmed against him, trying desperately to be free of his grasp.

“Please stop, just talk to me!” He yelled spinning her in his arms until her tear stained face looked right into his just inches apart. He looked into her fiery eyes that had been extinguished with tears and her face sunken not from a few moments of horror but a life time of them.

“Please just let me go.” She whispered in a desperate and heartbreaking voice as she breathlessly beat her hands against his chest. She fought like a rabid animal and refused to stop. “Let me go!” she howled in a voice filled with the pain of a dying animal. The shock of her scream shattered his resolution; he had never heard her raise her soft voice before. She landed a solid hit on his chest and with a loud pained grunt he released her and she fell onto the ground in a distraught heap. She sprang back to her feet and raced to the front door, throwing it open as the rain poured behind her she stopped for one moment. He looked at her with eyes that swam with pain and saw in her nothing.

“Please, don’t ever follow me, and don’t ever look for me.” She whispered as she looked at him, her fiery eyes glinting in the house’s light. Her wild red hair blowing in the stormy wind which gusted in from the noisy street outside, filling the house with noise and chaos.

And she was gone, she ran out of the house, down the steps and out into the middle of the street. He rushed to the door just in time to see her dart across the street to the sound of screaming taxi horns and the yells of motorists as she ran without a care of being hit across the road and away. Her red hair being tossed carelessly by the wind, her shoelaces untied and scrambled around her feet and her shirt left carelessly untucked and wild in the breeze. She disappeared down the street into the thick throng of black umbrellas covering blank faces, swallowed by the throngs of people bustling to nowhere but always hungry for another life to drag into its clutches and never be released. Standing in the doorway, in the rain he stood with his heart in his hand and its slowing beat.

The shattered flower vase lay in pieces on the floor of the back room, the water running from its broken contents like blood. Its path only interrupted by the letter laying on the floor that slowly absorbed the liquid, blurring and spreading the ink of the words into an incoherent chaos never to be deciphered by another humans’ eyes. The last sentence to be swallowed by the blood water of the vase as the ink spread like a plague on its surface: terminal cancer, 4 months to live. He would never see the letter, and its damning words as he walked numbly back into the empty house devoid of life and love. He fell to his knees on the sea of comforters, gathering them into his arms to fill the hole in his heart, curling into a ball in the sea of white, he was left alone with no explanation just the devastating hole in his chest and the rain drifting through the open window and door, and the smell of petrichor.

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Climbing Vine

Monday, March 26th, 2012

A shadow sits folded in on itself
At the bottom of this dark hole
Like a love note, written
But never sent from its dark resting place
Amongst the cobwebs and spinster spiders
Weaving their lives from the fantasy
Of gossamer thin lies
Lies that build walls thicker than the fortified
Walls which streak upwards like skyscrapers
Surrounding this bent and hollow shadow
Sitting at the bottom of this dripping well
That has become her home
Wretched and empty
Hunched and alone she sits
Like a broken marionette doll
Beautiful once, but thrown away
Her strings have been clipped
As she fell down this hole
Now she must learn to move on her own
This limbs so heavy and graceless
That have never belonged to her
At the bottom of everything
Clouds of cold air escape her barely parted lips
Breathing life into this desolate place
Reaching with the awkward limbs
Of a bird not yet learned how to fly
She feels blindly with her head held down
And her eyes closed
Finger tips glancing the damp walls of her prison
Gliding along the rough edges of bricks
Laid by careless and callous hands
Not the hands of decent men
Her decent hands feel the gripping edges
Of stone sharp enough to draw blood
But dull enough to deny hope
This landscape of craters across the well’s face
Are beheld like Braille under her delicate fingertips until
Cringing like the legs of spider
Stumbling across unwanted prey
Her fingers curl and unfold again
Touching gently the obstacle encountered
At arms length away
With eyes not seeing she understands
Her fingers tracing the smooth contours
Contrasted against the rough stone walls
Of the petals of a plant, a vine
Curling its way upwards toward sunshine
She feels the twisted outline of the vine’s body
As it arches upward, bending, twisting
Manipulating its way up the coarse walls
Of a well too deep for human souls to be released
The shadow lifts its head slowly
Facing upward like the crawling vine
Looking without seeing with dull grey eyes
She can feel the faint and distant kisses
Left by the rain that fell far above
Disappearing before it made ground
She breathes in the moment, almost alive
She reaches with her other blind hand
Out, upwards, stretching to touch the rain
But like the climbing vine
It never quite finds its way

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Posted in Poetry |

Travel Update: Yosemite

Wednesday, December 22nd, 2010

My mom and I are heading out to Yosemite for a short trip before Christmas. I am hoping to see lots of snow even though it says it will just be raining. I have been yearning for some new adventures and haven’t been to Yosemite since seventh grade. So adventure here we come. Hiking , maybe cross country skiing, and lots of photos. Stay tuned for photos! See you all in a couple of days.

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Why I Love Otters

Monday, December 13th, 2010

Otters are definitely one of my favorite animals along with hedgehogs and ferrets. They are beyond adorable and are so fuzzy and tranquil looking. I have been trying for quite some time to get some halfway decent photos of some sea otters since I already got some good river otter photos. I decided that sea otters are much cuter than river otters. Sea otters just have such a cuteness about them, and how can you not love an animal that floats around on its back with stubby little arms.

I found this adorable little creature out at Moss Landing on my way down to Cal Poly. I keep seeing them there and always forget my camera. But I came prepared this time and ran over to capture his cuteness with my camera.

It started to rain on him, he didn’t seem very happy about so he decided to roll over. First he did this cute little fist pumping action with his arms by holding them out from his body and moving them up and down. It was probably one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

Then he proceeded to roll over on to his stomach with his hands held against his nose. It really looked like he was praying or something.

It just made my whole day seeing this otter. I love wildlife and capturing pictures of it to show other people why I love it so much is worthy standing out in the rain for however long it takes to get my shot. Lesson of the day anyways, otters are unearthly cute and I want one as a pet. It makes me sad to know I can’t have one, maybe some day I will befriend an otter and visit him. Dreams, oh well. I love otters and if you don’t… there is something seriously wrong with you.

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Raindrops

Sunday, December 12th, 2010

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Tulip Tears

Saturday, November 20th, 2010

Crossing names out of address books
After showers patter on a closed coffin
Just a passing moment gone
Putting down the pencil
To look at the rain as it shifts
Dancing in front of the window
As the drops send ripples outward
Pirouetting hand in hand with the grass
as each petal bends slightly under the weight
The water pulling its face down like a tear drop
The face turned upward catches the rain
Between the lines in your face
Catching in the corner of your lips
As a smile sneaks its way to your face
The rain brushes your face
With the tenderness of a lovers embrace
Sliding down cheeks so the tears don’t show
You face the sky alone
With forgotten names rolling off of you
Falling into muddied puddles
Never to be recovered, never to be remembered
Sifting into the soil, becoming part of the earth
Like seeds weaving into the ground
Returning home from life
To the warm embrace of the world’s womb
Wrapped in a veil of the earth’s tears
From the earth but not of the earth
Not yet, for now you rest among the tulips
A shimmering rain drop
Sending ripples into dreams
Into the minds of those who never knew you
Dancing with the grass
I still miss you
I will find you in the tulips in the earths embrace
There your name will be written again
Not in a book but in stone

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Guess What

Friday, July 9th, 2010

Guess what this is a picture of :D. This was taken in a rest stop parking lot in Minnesota (after my fall). I loved this a lot, the wet ground made them look really cool. Yeah for randomness!!

I will post the answer tomorrow as a comment for this post but I am sure you all will figure if out pretty quickly.

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Posted in Photos |