during the heavy rains that we had here in the San Diego area causing all kinds of messes ... anyhow, as I was sitting there looking out the window at the goings on in the world, the following came to my fingertips.The Metronome of Monotony
… drip, drip, drip … my head nods along with every drop as it falls towards its eventual demise … drip, nod, splat, and this has been going on for hours now and with no end in sight. The rains have been heavy the last week, sending rivers down where roads once ran, and making hills … move.
As far as natural disasters go, the San Diego area is quite the gathering place for aficionados of said such, with floods, fire, earthquakes and mudslides all within months of each other if not weeks, only to be rivaled, by what is now lovingly being called “The Plywood State”, Florida, with its one, two, three knockout punch back to back hurricanes.
Every raindrop carries within it an entire world, my world, your world … everything, just take the time to actually look at one. Right there in front of your eyes, in the raindrop, is the reflection of everything around you, a perfect copy. But what is to say that we are not the reflection of the raindrop and that we are not outside looking in but rather are the ones that are peeking out at the world through the raindrop.
… Drip, drip … as it slowly falls.
Every raindrop a lifetime of memories, every raindrop a tear of hope and every raindrop an entire world, my world, your world … everything.
It takes a very long time for that one raindrop to fall to the ground, but during that brief period, a lifetime is lived. Who’s to say it isn’t so?
I should have started to count them … in the beginning … as I slowly go mad. Talk about futile endeavors.
My days have been like this, one drip at a time, and I can’t tell you on which drop I am because they all look the same, each one holds the same as the other does, no difference in them what so ever, drip … drip … that’s all our days are, just drops of rain as they make their way down toward …oblivion.
… Drip, nod, splat.
This year will be different; this year will be … “The Year”. Yep, this year, “It” will happen, and “It” will be a good thing. “It” will change lives for the better, “It” will make dreams come true, “It” will be … … well, you know … Cool.
Whatever “It” turns out to be.
And if “It” really doesn’t happen this year, then I will be in perfect form from having practiced all year pretending contrite surprise, for when “It” really does happen, whenever that might be.
Either way I think I’m in good shape here.
Just getting a crick in my neck, from all the nodding is all.
…drip, drip …oh, there goes Tuesday, drip, drip and there goes ...
The futility of it all, even the simple thought of trying to stop it, to slow it down, to make it last longer, is just silly, but think and try we do anyhow, to slow the behemoth barreling down on us, he whom is named Age, Time, Death.
… drip, nod …
From apogee to effigy and you can take that any way you wish, we watch the raindrop so intently to try and wring its secrets from it before it’s too late, only to find our heads snapping up again to catch the next, and the next one. And never seeing anything new there, no answers, no cosmic truths revealed. Just another day in the life of the metronome of monotony …drip, nod.
It is that what you see on our venerable elders as the years take their toll on bodies’ minds and souls, as they remember the raindrops. Sitting there in their wheelchairs or front porch swing, nodding …drip, nod.
… Drip, nod … there goes Wednesday … drip.
The sun peeks through the cloud cover and promises to bring a pleasant day with it, maybe the rain will stop long enough to be able to go for a walk today, to do something … new-er. I need to get a life other than being slave to feathered folk. But then again, I’ve had it worse. Just wanted to have one raindrop a different hue than the rest for once, even if it’s only a shade off, before they all do what they all do.
You know …
drip…
nod …
splat.
