Rainy Mornings.

Rainy mornings are supposedly weather for lovers and/or people who earn salaries (by which I mean monthly wages paid by others for professional services and who therefore fail to see that the person who’s development is continually stunted by skipping work or getting in late is really themselves, not the ‘yeye oga’) to stay under covers, and perhaps that’s true for a lot of people, but I love the rain too much to sleep or snuggle my significant other through its numbing drumming.

So this rainy morning, I sat by the window in my hotel room, and watched water, which had left the earth in form so thin that I didn’t realize a small river had ascended into the skies, return to the earth.

My mind pondered a million thoughts about angles of creativity, adventures of writing and speaking and travel which I wish to undertake, family, friends, I miss and the things I want to do and say and share with them, but for this moment in time alone, it was raining, and I was content to be here and just let the sky weep cleansing tears onto the earth while persistent waves of time slowly ate away the shores of the day and life happened in the background.

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2 thoughts on “Rainy Mornings.

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