Thanking the rainy season cause water means life and life to me is a meditation


When it splatters, drops, drips; it will pour as rain. The cows, goats and flowers will have known. The calf hoping, and the goat jumping and the flower hoping with almost open buds. You and I if not smiling, will have already dug, ploughed and planted. Or maybe we may have forgotten the upcountry for farming but not the produce in plenty  our new towns will bear.

I look at you and mind the white collar you are on. This time you rather were given an off or a good, good break. Not just that but a good detachment from the office to a badly needed re appointment to the bedsheets. Yes,I too, a business mind but what of lovers?

The time for reckoning would have crept into their minds. Their hearts beating for as much the harder as the patting of the hailstones rains, on their roofs and windows. It would bring Valentines back…

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