Raindrops of Reality - [poetry]

daydream

cloudy
On a afternoon, sitting weirdly at my desk, fingers fidgeting with my pen as a storm comes my way, I contemplate my blank sheets of paper in front of me, wondering what to write. The sound of rain against the window pane distracts me from the present.

The water droplets grow faster and louder, to the point where the slow drizzle quickly turns into a squall of rain. My thoughts seem to escape me, they are running away; impossible to concentrate. Mesmerized, my eyes are fixed ahead in awe of the rain. After a moment, my mind starts to wander, my head roves and I lay down on the desk.

For a moment, my thoughts are flowing. Just for a moment, I think I can write.

The rain continues outside and the rushing water captures my heart. My breathing becomes slow and I can feel the rise and fall of my chest against the desk. The rise and fall begin to feel like a boat on the ocean advancing with the waves.

My senses pick up a sound followed by a vibration: d p
r o
i r
p d

Looking around, I notice that I'm in a canoe at sea but how did I appear here? Am I in a dream? My body feels the sensation of sunlight and motion and I can't stop thinking; one moment I'm sitting in my room, in another instant, I am in this location.

The oars are attached at both sides of the small ship. Yet, without a clear direction, I let nature guide me. Sometimes we need to drift along and give life a chance to place us where we need to be. This thought gives me a calm sensation and appease my m i n d --- just as the w a v e s continue to rock the canoe.

Time passes. . . . . . . . . . . I notice land ahead. A small strip of sand with immense palm trees decorating the background greets me with sympathy.
\w/i\t/h\ a destination in sight, I take the oars and row forward. The waves propel me quickly, while my arms provide a guide for the ca no e.

Once I reach the shore, I drag my boat away from the water. I can feel the warm sand against my .f.e.e.t. Some people are running towards me and cautious, I look down. After a few staring, the indigenous people of this island somehow come to trust me.

Words weren't needed; a smile shows me that everything will be fine. A man reaches out his hand towards me and caught off guard, I did not react. A smile. The indigenous people were running towards the peaceful forest; a man motions me to follow.

Through a vibrant forest I carry on. The land is so lush and the sunlight illuminate the trees. I hear the sound of foreign birds. At first I could not see where they were hiding. However, the man leading me points above; a beautiful parrot- or maybe an undiscovered species- rests in the trees.

My soul feels a sense of delight. When we approach their home, that happiness turns into a new sentiment; they live in such simple conditions yet they are full of happiness and peace. There is a large circle of stones surrounding a great camp fire. I can smell the scent of food waltzing through the air.

Some children are playing with dogs that were once wild on the island but now domestic with the company of humans. The man breaks my thought as he brings me to the cooking place. Just in time for dinner. I can feel the mistrustful gaze of others; however, the man who invited me here reassured them; I am considered as nonthreatening.

I take a wooden plate of food and seat next to the fire. Two small children approach me. They point at me but the man smiles and pats their heads. Just as the adults, the children also needed reassurance. I am safe.

Night falls and people carry out wooden drums- beating in a rhythm of their own. The villagers and I dance lively around the fire; we all clap along to the beat. This night will be etched in my memory. I kept dancing along as best as I could. There is such joy that time seems to not exist.

After the moon hangs higher on the horizon, everyone retires into their homes. I can still feel the warmth of the ardent flames in the house. The man brings me a woven mat to lay on. I let my thoughts drift me. With my back on the mat, I stare at the ceiling. The design is simple, yet very efficient; it reminds me of home. Home. The community here on the island presents just that- a healthy sense of love and commitment towards one another. I can't help but to think of the absence of time; without the scheduling and timeframes, people seem to be more relaxed. Maybe we are happier without hearing the constant clock: t i c t a c t i c t a c

I sigh to myself. Maybe this is the lesson to be learned from this experience. My mind is too tired to continue contemplating about life's mysteries. With fatigue, my eyelids grow heavy. I can hear everyone else breathing in their sleep. Soon my breath mimics their own and I too fall asleep.

Suddenly, a loud thunderclap crashes above. I see the dark sky in front of my desk. The rain continues to hit the window pane. I sigh- wondering how I returned. Was it a dream? It felt so real!

The experience may be unexplainable; it is unforgettable. I look down at my blank paper. I need to write this story.

Truth is what our souls perceive.

And the soul is like the eye: when resting upon that on which truth and being shine, the soul perceives and understands and is radiant with intelligence; but when turned towards the twilight of becoming and perishing, then she has opinion only, and goes blinking about, and is first of one opinion and then of another, and seems to have no intelligence?

- Plato, The Republic VI

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˚✽ add this book to your library if you enjoyed this poem ;)