rain
A raindrop glistens on the side of the side of the concrete wall, a partisan that defines the containment between its belonging and nature. As if being brought down by the sheer accumulation of its existence, it drearily descends the facade, all the while becoming a tiny looking glass, magnifying the cracks and crevices it occasionally wedges and stalls itself into. The constant footsteps of passersby resonate within the bulb of life; the piercing eyes of the kibitzer cynically looking upon the drop, his derisive voice mocking every inch it crawls down. How far will it crawl before breaking from the pull of its surroundings?
Intervention steps in.
The light of reason splits the red sea of the sky, the looming air clears, and the spotlight of the morning star shift its glance to other wearisome prey as the crucifix descends down from a stairway from heaven. The world looks on, appreciating the stigmata upon life, as if it matters, even as it spirals down its own well of self realization. The gaping chasm of life and death opens its hungry mouth for more, chewing on the wealth of the fallen and devouring upon the suffering of the risen. As the fever of the rising sun becomes to great to ignore, the tired raindrop lets go and evaporates into bliss, letting go of its obligation to the gravity of life and death.
Is God waiting for me, or am I waiting for God?
4 love letters:
God doesn't wait.
He is an eternal now.
truetrue
As I read these short verses, a smile pasted itself on my face. You made a raindrop appear beautiful, almost alive.
For this post in particular, I'd like to bring up several points of interest, although I'll bring particular focus on the raindrop metaphor:
"As if being brought down by the sheer accumulation of its existence, it drearily descends the facade, all the while becoming a tiny looking glass, magnifying the cracks and crevices it occasionally wedges and stalls itself into."
I love how you attribute the fall of a raindrop to the weight of its tribulations within its existence ("the sheer accumulation of its existence"), to say that life is taxing to this poor raindrop. And yet, this raindrop continues to fall or "drearily descend" down the concrete wall because of gravity's omnipotence. Regardless of its own aspirations, the raindrop must reluctantly follow the laws of the physical world and conform to the obligatory downward pull of gravity.
This raindrop, for a duration, becomes a "tiny looking glass" and magnifies the imperfections of the very wall it is forced to cling onto. These imperfections become regions where it must wedge into because of the form of the wall, regardless of the raindrop's own agenda. Due to the default arrangement of its environment, the raindrop is forced to enter and delve into the cracks. The natural question is, "How far will it crawl before breaking from the pull of its surroundings?" How long until the raindrop finds its own individuality and strives to accomplish its own goals, not those set by its environment? This raindrop, then, becomes a metaphor for an individual. How long will it take for any of us to stop adhering to the doctrines set by others in society - to break away from social norms and do whatever it may be to please ourselves?
The answer:
2. "As the fever of the rising sun becomes [too] great to ignore, the tired raindrop lets go and evaporates into bliss, letting go of its obligation to the gravity of life and death."
The only effective remedy to the situation is death. Only death may relieve the raindrop of conformity, of "its obligation to the gravity of life and death" or the burden that is the societal laws that govern its life and supress the individuality of the raindrop. Although death is a grave matter, to say that the raindrop evaporates into "bliss" insinuates that death would be the lesser of two evils between death and conformity. And, of course, the metaphor between the literal force of gravity that acts on a raindrop vs. the "gravity" and pressures of life that the raindrop feels from its surroundings is just beautiful.
As for another point, I'm glad I stumbled upon this blog. It's a gold mine and it's made my day!
haha it makes me happy thinking that im making other people happy by my writing!
thanks!
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