cages.

rain is dripping steadily off the eaves of our building.

a stream of water falling to the earth, watering the ground, the life that blossoms & yields.

I awoke this mornings feeling heavy.

like my bones literally had weights attached to them - my ribs refusing to expand.

short breaths gasped in the morning light.

I got angry last night, I yelled.

I try to speak & find that I have lost my voice.

I wouldn't surrender, I was refusing.

I find that the rain watering the earth this morning is my lesson.

you can not grow without the water.

you may think you can, love, but you can't.

you will dry up & wither. you will stretch out your leaves turned brown & think you've got it all together. but you need the rain. you need to surrender. you need to be renewed, reminded. you need to let down the walls of pride that you build like a cage. you believe that it will protect you, that you are above it all - but it only ensnares you, wrapping you up in a reality that is so distant from the truth. you need the rain. you need to destroy the cage.

stop fighting the rain, love.

stop fighting.