A seed floated gently in the cusp of the autumns eve to be safely tucked in the niches of volcanic rock.
The Gods were kind, the weather was favourable and some droplets of rain tucked away in the bosom of clouds gently
fell on the scorching earth. The seed initially shocked, then basking in the goodness of rain, slowly grew out of the seed walls
Queer as it may seem, humans are the same. We are surrounded by dust and our niche.
The world around is hazy with options, but all it takes to break open our shell is that one drop of rain on the parched mind.
That single drop would suffice to start the journey of finding our position in this universe.
That drop helps our roots penetrate through the soil of life, holding on to moments.
Attachment is excruciating, but is that not the reason for existence?
Had there been no soil, would the drop of rain have made a difference?
The seed grew on to bloom to a wildflower to rocky bottoms, beginnings do not matter, is it the wildflower that grew in those extreme conditions? or is it the tough conditions of the wild that let the seed explore the unknown?
The wildflower swayed in happiness, a splash of yellow set against the azure skies. The insouciant flower reflected in a puddle of rainwater,
the happiness was a like infectious laugh, untouched by emotions, like that of a child’s babble.
Was that smile the smirk of success or the bliss of ignorance or the strength of attachment or the confidence of having faced the worst?
This time when the rain falls, the wallowing is definitely a relief.
fell on the scorching earth. The seed initially shocked, then basking in the goodness of rain, slowly grew out of the seed walls
Queer as it may seem, humans are the same. We are surrounded by dust and our niche.
The world around is hazy with options, but all it takes to break open our shell is that one drop of rain on the parched mind.
That single drop would suffice to start the journey of finding our position in this universe.
That drop helps our roots penetrate through the soil of life, holding on to moments.
Attachment is excruciating, but is that not the reason for existence?
Had there been no soil, would the drop of rain have made a difference?
The seed grew on to bloom to a wildflower to rocky bottoms, beginnings do not matter, is it the wildflower that grew in those extreme conditions? or is it the tough conditions of the wild that let the seed explore the unknown?
The wildflower swayed in happiness, a splash of yellow set against the azure skies. The insouciant flower reflected in a puddle of rainwater,
the happiness was a like infectious laugh, untouched by emotions, like that of a child’s babble.
Was that smile the smirk of success or the bliss of ignorance or the strength of attachment or the confidence of having faced the worst?
This time when the rain falls, the wallowing is definitely a relief.
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