Into the Rain

Such pity poor does Nature show
To those she must endure,
To be free alive beyond what minds contrive,
Is her destiny for sure.

These eyes can see so easily,
Through panes of weathered glass,
Nature’s plan to shake off this man,
Or have his ego shunned en masse.

Such tears have formed throughout the years,
Now come pouring from the sky,
And through this weathered window pane,
Comes the understanding why.

This box is sealed with mental locks,
She offers me the key,
With pain assumed by us insane,
We create all reality.

This box is why I can stay so dry,
And absent of her pain,
But through that door there is much more,
So I walk Into the Rain.

Through that door into the light, from the confines of darkness into the freedom from it I walk. Unsteadily, as if walking for the first time, I take my first step beyond what I know into the Rain. Why does such pure water feel so dirty? Why does the chill course through my body as if I am feeling life for the very first time? I stumble a bit, unsure of my balance as I venture outward, but somehow I realize that the more I seem to venture from the confines that held me, the more I seem to venture outward, the more I venture inward. This Rain, as it cascades down my now bare skin onto the Earth that is now part of me, is bringing me alive as if for the very first time.

We are but one,
One body, one soul, one part of Creation,
We are all part of the same Sea,
And in this existence we share,
We are all but teaspoons from this Sea,
And surely one day we will all return to Her.
Our spoons may look different,
The bowls may be larger or smaller,
The handles may be ornate or plain,
But it is not the spoon that matters,
For it is just a vessel, a distraction from the Sea.

I realize that as much as our egos seek to separate us from all that is, we are not separate from any of it. Although ego provides us with physical differences we are not different except in our perception of the physical. Although our minds offer us borders from which to divide ourselves, we are not different. As the mud runs through my toes I realize that somewhere someone is also allowing the mud to run through their toes. The same Earth, the same air, the same sky, the same Rain, the same emotion, all is the same but the vessel that carries the Sea. In the Sea we share a Oneness and the same purpose, and it is the purpose of ego to have us forget the Sea and to focus on the vessel that carries it. In this sense, the battle is not between “good” and “evil”, but between awareness and ego.

So, with arms outstretched and eyes focused on the sky, I walk into the Rain.