Rainfall’s certain magic. How beautiful be that of this world, the gathering and falling of rain from the sky.
Everything cleansed from the fluid infusion that water’s energy brings. Refreshed and renewed.
The light reflection from a tiled surface, slick. Mind your step!
Flowing movement, the pull of gravity calling to collect in a dip most low lying.
So curious, water’s seeking of itself; to join, attract, become magnetised. What better than it, to flood, pool, engulf.
Inresistant. Completely surrendered.
Birthing and sustaining, allowing life to thrive. Adaptive to any and all conditions, never ceasing to exist.
The sound variety –
Rooftop raindrops pattering, crashing and rolling surf.
Gentle trickles, delicate leaky dripping.
Fine spray of mist, tumbling shower.
Boiling bubble, cracking ice.
Sizzle and steam, hastily evaporate.
Many qualities in water, it’s true. Symbolism abounds.
The sorrow of a tear’s roll, the filling of pain to overflow. The soft wetness of a loving kiss. The damp of a hard working brow.
All this, and more.
Reblogged this on The Three Bears NZ.
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