Rain that muddles

Dark has the power to lure anyone. It was the one of mystery waiting to be unraveled. May be it is because of the dreamer in me, for it demands the mind to wander like a pendulum oscillating between the past and the future oblivious to the present. It was just half past four in the evening of scorching season of the extended summer. With a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and book on the other, I was starring far ahead through the French window, for the sky had darkened, onus on the summer rain. I couldn’t help but romanticize the sound of thunder and the lightening that split the now midnight blue sky. It was a sunny afternoon that indeed turned out to be a chilly but beautiful evening. I could feel the chill and I reveled in it.

It was another time, another place I was laying on the bed of grass under the ceiling of stars. That night had been beautiful too. With a fire to warm and the man to love, no one would have asked for a better night. There was a house, built of stone and cement, with a swing in the front porch that overlooked the hills. The simplicity that was so banal was enduring to the eye. There was rain and thunder with the flash of lightening. Suddenly everything was dark again.

I was sipping the cup of coffee by the window, seeing more than what the view offered, more than the men in the raincoats and women in umbrellas saving themselves from the puddles that were formed on the muddled earth. I had to smile for it was the clear sky I could see in the place far away. The water so blue and the grass to green, the bastion in the middle that was so enchanting. No, there was no sleeping princess but hopefully a prince charming. The murky clouds dawned over the tower pouring with a roar making the picture as nebulous as the muddled earth.

There were visions that spelled mayhem for it muddled the realism from the dream. There is truth beneath the chaos as there is a mask over the dark.

Yes the rain muddles the earth indeed.