raindrops/ meditation / yoga

Mirrored in the rain, looking out the study window, drops cascading down the glass, in each one, a memory held, so isolated they make their own little island on the window pane. Feeling myself cohere around one droplet, eyes fixed, dramatic, it reaches out to me in a kiss. The flood now, as the kiss runs the length of the glass down the windowsill, running until it runs out of breath, where glass and raindrop now barely touch. It disappears, like many others lovers, and I am left peering out the wet glass into the stillness of the barest tree, as it diagrams an entrance into my heart.

 My body, just a cover for my soul, my flesh keeping the passion contained, as my eyes fixate on the bareness of the tree. The stillness, something shifts inside of me, scoops past my chin, my neck, further down, until I am holding the tree's bareness in the palm of my hand. Falling into my instant escape, the world a million miles away, the rain now a cobweb for my writing. The slow tap of rain music, a slow methodical beat, as my face profiles in the glistening of  the wetness. 

tap, tap ,tap, tap of my keyboard, as another chapter of life completes and ends, and a new one meanders along.....I call it progress!