It is raining outside but close to me
it is dry and warm; monsoon
season rests in my chest
rain descends consecutively like each living
second–
one after the other making both, life and rain, seem endless.

the clouds trickle their misunderstood grey-ness into my yogurt bowl sweetening my existence; each droplet a new second held in time so I count: 
 1 - 2 -3 -4 …until I arrive at endlessness, presence and peace)