Constants

I run away.  I take my feeling and put it into a movement.  Finding somewhere empty and off the path,  I stop,  gulp at the air and let my tears run with the rain.

I sit back on my heels, slipping slightly on the bark as I find my grip.  I look at the slanted landscape around me,  glistening and gently shifting in the warm rain. Every colour lives brightly in the damp.  Luminescent greens of leaves against the sky,  rich purples of bluebells born again from the downpour and the creams of wild garlic flowers, providing a scentless canvas to compare the vibrancy to.  I stare into the sea of colour and blur my eyes,  seeing only the motion of droplets falling and slipping off the shiny wet, leaves.
I stare and I sink into the constancy of it,
the trustworthiness of it,
the knowledge that the water will make the plants grow, bloom and seed.

I stare and long for the power to dissolve into the tree behind me.
If only I could become part of that simple,  logical,  rule based world.
No consciousness or emotion.
No love or hate.  No people.
I sit on my heels a long time,  hugging my knees and waiting for it to happen,  slowly getting soaked to the skin. Cold and uncaring.

It will pass soon.  It always does.  Just…wait.

 

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