The Mix

There’s no grandeur

Like striding up cement grades,

Of a humble house humbly laid.

Onto the open roof,

And the shining sun.

Wind blowing easy,

Hard day’s work done.

There’s nothing like the double rainbow,

As a black cloud comes,

A crack of thunder and a lightning show.

It mixes with a blinding white light,

Shooting strong against the dark,

Both beautiful and terrible to sight.

There’s no peace like sitting and glowering in the traveling light.

The feel of cool rain coming in delight.

Sheltered from its drops by a small tin roof’s might.

Listening to the exponential growth

Of small clangs and slow trickles.

Now forming puddles and streams,

Nature mixing, becoming, my dreams.

The leftover heat forging light tufts of steam.

There’s nothing more grounding

Than living there in that moment,

Knowing and needed nothing more,

Than the free breezing current.

Feeling small in the mountain’s shadow,

But being filled by the warm light’s glow.

Knowing freedom in the stray droplet’s embrace,

Letting go of fear as it rolls down my face.

Sensing pure simplicity in its taste.

Thoughts moving from synapse to synapse,

As slowly as the tear from my eye to my chin,

And mixes with that drop that I’ve kissed.

As nature and I begin to mix,

And separation ceases to exist.