I stepped in a puddle
And my shoes are not waterproof.
I stepped on the pavement and left a mark.
I stepped onto grass and it stuck in the cracks.
I stepped in the puddle – but my shoes are not waterproof.
I walked inside my home
Wiped them dry
Lay them together side by side, as one does.
The morning came with its grey sky bringing to me the words I have wanted to say for a very long time since everything turned inside out along with shoes and puddles, and marks on pavements, and grassy soles –
FUCK YOU RAIN!
I smiled and winked at my children and they laughed.
Not at me, but with me, side by side as one does.
It seems not always, not everybody wants to remain childlike.
Rather choosing to allow rain in the whirling sky of their world to turn their lightening onto those that stand alongside them. You know, just in case they get pushed into a puddle.
They swear, yes they do. At you, at me, at the world. They swear but do not wink.
Choose childish ways? Childish things? Choose wisdom of children who have not had compassion neglected out of their souls and beaten out of their hearts, and screamed out of their bodies sacredness. Choose to have broken weeping hearts for those children young and old because we cannot be the empty they allowed to consume their humanity.
Side by side, as one does until pushed into their puddle, kicked onto their grass, squashed onto their pavement. Tomorrow they will reign over us again and we will repeat the words said today,
FUCK YOU RAIN.
A symptom of clouds filling themselves up too much with more than they can bear. Purging with no thought for what their tempest destroys.
Shall I curse the clouds? I wish I could, I sometimes do… I really do, I wish I did not. Clouds have to release all the weight it carries, the cloud simply obeys the sun its planet orbit around’s it has no say or ability to do anything but rain.
Clouds don’t realise how much their rain can destruct. How awkward it can make things!
How dry it becomes when there never is any. How dull, with not a thing in sight growing any longer.
FUCK YOU RAIN.
I am tired now.
Sun, Grows things too.
Too much rain and everything rots, can we be suns mostly and only clouds when really needed?
Can we leave our shoes together side by side in rain and sun?
As one does? Does one?
Can we be gentle and kind more than we twist and manipulate? Warm more than cold – and have time to dry out our dripping everything, more than we find ourselves wet.
Can we laugh more than we cry?
As one does?
Dedicated to my 15 year old son, who stepped in a puddle and stated ‘I stepped in a puddle and my shoes are not waterproof’, and thought a poem or song beginning with those words would be good. Giving inference to such aspects of how it resembles – life. As it does.