Читать книгу A Window Opened - Alan Martin - Страница 11

Standing with the Clouds of Rain

Along the fields of stubble and high grass beside the roads of slush, the guise of singleness enters and stands with a stagnated stale. This flagrant staunch surpasses a becoming stench, which allows it to erode amongst the clothes that you are wearing. You would think the freshness of water pouring or even dripping would cleanse the mind. But when it hits the parched weeds and grass, the smell of the aroma could have changed. The muddy creeks and the pools after the “rain of ashes” brought out an odor that is distinguished from the dryness that once was there.

This visionary view of the “sparkling glitter” landing on your head during a hot sunny afternoon puts a “youthful glow on your smile.” A cool purity of this “fresh rain influenced me into dancing” with the sparkles that were falling from the sky. The feeling of coolness on your aching skin brings “laughter to you and to the clouds above.”

This overwhelming discovery “by chance” allows me to meet the propulsions of these small particles that were dancing on my face. While embracing this view, you happen to see the colors that have changed as you look toward the sky. Will these tiny little droplets permit you to perceive your own identity?

A stranger following the course of the day was looking at the display. His observance asked, “Where is the providence of my stance?” Will the unknown receive an answer that satisfies the curious nature of their character? Being motionless in an idling stance while pondering at the “clouds in the sky” seems to make one wonder if we’ll see rain.

Does the enjoyment of its wetness sprinkle excitement for those of you who want to come out and play? This enlighten force of splash has you looking at the dashing grounds “while watching” it has a tendency to just wash away.

A fortune was noticed as the “brightness was showing the shininess” of its silver lining. As the sky was forming a smile, you could see the glaze covering its eye’s. Have we looked upon a dream that once was written that was only found in plays?

While I stood there “under the clouds of rain,” there was a harmony singing a song for those who can hear.

The light within the darkness sent lyrics of enchantment, whistling tunes of delightful melodies. The strings of these instruments were tickling your ears as the horns echoed out messages that sent you walking on air. This idling moment makes me wonder as it caresses the uprightness of our delay, allowing a wet falling substance to hit my face!

Should we be inspired by the warmth of “rain on a hot sunny day?” Does the enjoyment sprinkle its mystery showing “smiles with a glaze?” Or can we find favor with the wetness that may form tears? Has the complexity been introduced to make things harder for us to understand?

This creative process that allows water to fall from the sky can be amazing, just thinking about it!

But somehow it has replaced our joy into a dark dreariness that we happen to see! As it approaches from a distance, you notice the grayness of your surroundings becoming darker. Focusing your eyes on the blurriness as the “gust of winds were howling, blowing,” and tossing you around like wet rags in a tub! This had you pondering how strong the “rain and stormy winds” have become. These “clouds of darkness” have stepped in causing you to go blind, resembling a gloomy appearance that no one could hold!

Will the “loudness of thunder” wake up his shiny partner that likes to send “bolts of spark across the sky?” A strong withering abrasion was rubbing against the clothes you’re wearing as you saw the “force of the storm” sneezing mucous from the abruption of its cold, “exhaling its breath,” sending wet liquid out to those who are below!

Now you can see his mouth as he begins to open his nostrils so he can “inhale for another breath.” Will he send another round of darkness with the “winds shaking and quivering its invisible coil?” A sudden twist of its glory could be announced through the sounds of its choice. Who can close the mouth that “blows out his laughter?” Do we dare talk with the “winds of time,” asking can you ease off a little?

The “clouds that roam with the sky” has filled up their sponge, waiting for permission to empty the condensed liquid that has filled up their foggy chambers. This excessive fluid has caused it to become overcrowded as it starts to show agony, causing a deep-bluish color forming on his face. Can he be persuaded to let it just rain with a gentle flow crossing the plains? Or will he preserve us for another day as he flies by looking for another place? Or could this rapid falling substance engulf us with its violent rage?

Hopefully he can keep his anger under control and not flood the grounds that we’re standing on. We see from his discomfort that he’s ready to pour out his cup that could lead to a long miserable day. Has he absorbed all the passages in his porous skin? Can he find relief in his gaseous form! Is there something he could take to relieve his congestion?

“Oh my,” now we’re talking to the clouds as if they were our brother or sister. I wonder is there something that could cause him to burp. This illusion of “blown up clouds” that are bursting at the seams has brought some weird thoughts to your brain.

When the clouds have emptied the watery contents it held, it begins by showing a brilliant assortment of colors flowing across the sky. The “crescent quarter-moon ring” with its dazzling shades of color shows off its spectrum in layers of lines. “Will the rainbow shine” its glowing image to hold back the “clouds of rain!”