The rain happens suddenly, bringing dark air and wet streets. I feel mist on my face standing under patio, absorbing the dense wind, sensing the future out there among the drops slowly burrowing  back into the earth. Tomorrows that once seemed obscure become real again as I watch the thick moisture glisten on everything, lathering my landscape with a slick film. There is life in the wet night, and I am a part of a world that swirls and wobbles forward in time, out of nonsense, into something incomprehensible and magnificent. I watch it all silently. Listening. There is a song in the storm.


Author: jasperkerkauwriting

I am trying to write myself out of the darkness.

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