letting its lap
fill with pearls and shells,
then empty...
Everything begs
with the silent rocks
for you to be flung out like light
over this plain.
-- Rumi
After a promising sunrise, the clouds rolled in again this morning; we don't ever seem to get more than two days of sun in a row, and unless I miss my guess we've not had more than ten days of sunshine since... well... maybe November?
Not that I mind, exactly -- I don't do at all well in heat, and would be miserable in all the rest of the parts of the country where the heat is so extreme this year.
But it's a bit like an engine that doesn't quite turn over, and if it does, it doesn't run long enough to get you anywhere. We're always suspicious, the first day of sunshine -- will it last? And then the second day dawns sunny again and we're like, YES! Fists pumping, summer's here at last, now we can get all that stuff done, go all those places we wanted to go...
And darn, if the next day you wake up and it's cloudy again, and you curl back in on yourself, and want to crawl back under the covers; wake me when the sun comes out again.
I know, I know -- do I want some cheese with this whine?
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