The intriguing dream spoken without words. "Rain are Heaven's tears." If you entangle yourself in the atmosphere, you can almost taste their bitterness and sadness.
If only the world was less corrupt, if only children didn't beg and starve and die of disease while the greedy lost themselves in material luxuries, if only innocents weren't tortured while the sinful remained undiscovered, if only the knowing didn't feel the force ripping their sails apart while the ignorant were trapped inside false security. If only. Then would Heaven shed its icy tears?
Does it not tempt us? To embrace the misty water drops. Life. All a part of life. Life and its tragedies, its hope, its beauty, its inner despair overwhelmed, somehow surfacing in the form of an inexplicable relation to such a common surrealism untainted.
It seems even the trees are weeping. Watch shiny drops cling to their branches; you'd believe they were clothed with a layer thin enough to reveal the naked flesh underneath, fabrics soaked dripping wet and the spirit faced with defeat. Yet in their own way they defy this inner storm; they stand tall with their branches braced to face the wind that was to come their way.
The sky is gray. Do you hear the prayer it utters? There is a reason why the sun always penetrates the gloomy clouds from within, a reason why death is revived again and again. Life and death. One to bleed into the other; surely they are one and the same.
And if there were no destruction, no thunder, no storm, would there be beauty such as this? Would the appreciation even exist? No, human nature is too blind. So clouded by its own desires and stubbornness.
Even if the drops are not cold enough to bring out the numbness from within, there is something, something too intricate about this setting. It's as if the sorrow of this Earth somehow touches a chord inside of you, as if the bare branches somehow silently take over all realms of your thoughts.
Sometimes, only sometimes nature invokes those moments of silence from the deepest corners of your heart where only dark secrets dwell. The echoing chambers of your heart of which you are trapped in. Listen to the silence observed from within a window too transparent. Could it bring you what you seek? This final fusion with those incessantly dripping drops, the one and only moment of reprieve.
Free your soul.