On losing something useful
There's nothing more atrocious than
Lines of rhythmic beauty
They were pearls round Mother Nature's neck. The sky was gloomy as was my mood. It had been raining. I went outside not for the fun of it but just to give me a boost. At such times, you cannot but help being but yourself, because it's Mother Nature conspiring to take you by the collar. I am susceptible to cold and cough. But my spirit got the better of me and I decided to take myself out without an umbrella. I was being completely with myself. No phone calls, occasional smiles, the pitter- patter of the rain and then as I rested my heavy self on a slab, I looked up to see the beauty Mother Nature thankfully presented. A plant with drops of rain on the edge of its leaves. Nothing new to nature lovers. No, not even me. But there it was revealing itself to me-- my beauty. I was there just in time to get the glimpse. The fading light would not have allowed me to participate in full measure had I been late, or had I allowed my mind to continue being clouded. There they wer
There's nothing more atrocious than thinking oneself being alone, than feeling oneself being less than what one is, in giving less than what one may give away.
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