It is about to rain as I write this.
The sky is grey and there is that faint light.
There is that ambivalence and
and also the equivalence.
I wait for the sweet smell of grass after the rain
and the dispersed glow of the afternoon light.
This is how I see life,
a life lived under the rain
and embraced by the faint light.
We engage them in different strokes,
in different levels, in different motions, in different moments.
And we never get out of them really if you come to think about it.
And no matter how we weave and bob, crawl on all fours
or just keeping still, there is still that rain and that faint light.
They simply don’t go away.
We are all in search of the meaning of life.
Philosophers, poets, sages, and even our neighbor, who walks
his Shih Tzu in the morning, have been pondering about it.
But one thing I learned early on is this:
That the meaning of life can be found
In the rain
and in that faint light
in every passing moment
as I walk away.