POURING RAIN, Emptiness Within

The rain is pouring down upon the thirsty earth. Pouring down upon my yurt-bedroom and it will be hard to sleep, as it is so loud.

I am full of emotion tonight. Emoting does promote a softening as when one feels like one is 'coming apart at the seams'. It's not a bad thing, just a part of the life process, the expansion of the soul. The softening of those edges that cut into us.

I do tonight feel utterly alone. This is logically assimilated in my mind that I am merely experiencing a perception only of separation from That Which Created All. This logical feedback does not comfort. But I am not seeking comfort right now. I am simply feeling my state of aloneness fully. Crying does cleanse and release. A primal scream sort of noise really was necessary in order for me not to explode with the pending softening that simply had no choice but to follow. It's those rare times when one needs to scream that it's really convenient to be surrounded by the forest. It's simply the order of things. Sometimes it's hard to look at life as a gift, even when the blessings are cute little brand new ginger babies that inspire awe, and the big brother who is yet a little boy who woke me in the mornings so we could brush our teeth together.

Where is my life? I am in a sacred space. The journey sometimes really is an ass kicker.

MONDAY, RAINY MONDAY

ANOTHER DAY OF RAINY-NESS. Yesterday as it was literally pouring, the sun peeped out long enough to give me a quick view of a fleeting rainbow. It was very wide, almost discernible on the hilltop line, and faded within seconds. It appeared to end in the meadow outside my gate, which made me actually see "the end of the rainbow". There was not a visible pot of gold, however.

No complaints from me over this extended moisture, except that it may well be charged with radioactive particles from the infamous Japanese disaster, as the dryness of summer will come soon enough. Besides, the pelting of raindrops upon the rooftop of my yurt sound wonderful, as long as the soggy ground does not loosen the roots of the giant oak which looms high above this canvas concoction that is my bedroom.

That's all I have to say about this little subject. It's ROYAL WEDDING week, and that will be another literary ditty altogether.