i used to hate the rain...
the way it would drench my clothes
and get in my eyes
mess up my hair
and make everything gloomy

but now i think i actually like the rain
because without it
how would the grass be green
and there would be no rainbows

funny how it's like storms in life
without them we wouldn't grow

and i love listening to rain at night
the way it sounds
as it helps me drift off to sleep
pit-pat
pit-pat
it's so calming and relaxing

and you can tell how people are
by the way they react to rain
people either dance in it
or are miserable by it

Have you ever read a really good series. Where it almost seems like your one of the characters. But then you get to the end of the series and there's nothing else to read. And then you feel a little bit depressed, and since it was such a big part of your life you kinda don't know what to do anymore ... Yeah that's me :/

The call of the scrub jay
Plaintive in the silence of solitude.
The mountain before me that I must shift
Looms large as I take in my surroundings.
Song flows from my dry cracked lips
As I plead with the heavens for guidance.
My exertions drawing the moisture from my skin
And the strength from my limbs,
The walls of my last sanctuary start to crumble
As the dehydration sets in.
The last ray of sunlight fades,
And darkness sets in,
Mirroring my growing dread.
I lie in my nest
Throwing up final pleas
To the spirits of the world
To protect my nearly naked body.
The caress of cedar bows
Normally so comforting,
Now warding of the welcome respite of sleep.
Cold spreading over my body
As it slips through the earth,
Encompassing my body in its fatal grip.
My mind no longer reliable tells me
The end is near.
As my legs carry me back,
Back to the beginning,
Back on my commitment,
Back towards who I was,
The moisture I need so badly
Flows down my cheeks
As I accept defeat.
As I dismiss my bid for independence.

Eyes turned down,
Anger and disappointment flowing through my veins,
Anguish apparent on my tear stained face.
He looks at me with this look of love.
The same that had pushed me to this challenge.
The same that had always given me such confidence.
The same that I now felt like I didn't deserve.
As understanding flowed from his heart to mine,
My strength returned,
My confidence restored,
My will whole again.
Clarity and determination
Regained their hold over my mind,
Kicking the panic and excuses
From their tyrannical thrones.
The cold dark night ahead
Now no more worrying than a walk in a meadow
As i set off back to my temporary home.

Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Always daydreaming
Each one a test

I'm a hopeless optimist,
Some may say.
Tossing petals on a silly rose,
wasting the day.

The idea of love,
So open and free
Thought provoking, mysterious
Until it gets to me.

Then I recall,
Why I prefer being alone.
It's hard to find peace,
In someone else's home.

By home, I mean mind
Two becomes one
You both have to share it
To simply enjoy the sun

Idiosyncrasies,
Start to synchronize
The way we view life
Is seen through one set of eyes

We become a machine,
Two bodies and one brain
A lovely entanglement
Loneliness has been slain.

You passed the test,
And you've set me free,
But only through binding,
The concept of 'you and me'

Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Until the real thing comes,
And starts a fire in my chest.