rain

i love rain, reminds me of being 5 in lahore as if it were yesterday, never thought i'd "grow up" one day, let alone on the other side of the planet, i guess it's transitional, if it were up to me i'd never grow up, it's a strange phase, i know that i must select a mate(noun)...and mate(verb), i guess we all have the same hormonal urges, a companion maybe, ever since as a kid, i've always wished for rain on my wedding day, my people were grateful to the earth and to water, that it would feed them through the year, and maybe a little extra this time, my soul is in those wet fields, feet sunk in the mud half up to the knees, dawn to dusk, all my fore fathers have looked up to rain to save their harvest, rain is what has made me possible, a friend recently told me we are co-creators of our own reality, that the universe is simply one large mirror, blindly reflecting back our own thoughts and feelings, whether they be of love or fear, i don't know what to make of it, the idea of my thoughts/emotions creating my reality seems new, a bit of a contrast from the monotheistic view that good/bad works determine one's rewards/punishments (karma), who really knows for certain, i sometimes feel we are all mirrors, for each other that is, broken and shattered and pieced back together, reflecting what is meant to be seen, what we want to be seen, what life wants us to see, metamorphosis is so interesting, especially when occurring in one's own life, leaving certainty behind, for a future unknown, take the moth for instance, its battle to exit the cocoon, the harder the struggle, the healthier the wings of the emerged butterfly, the selfish gene is inherent to mankind, it's what has brought us so far, whether selflessness is a form of selfishness, who cares, here we are, have another 50 or so years before we die, what do we do in the meanwhile, serving oneself is addictive, we want what's on the other side, else we wouldn't ask these questions, as a kid i would fly kites for hours, it was a strange bond, between me and the kite, kinda like fishing or meditation i guess, you're holding a line, you're holding a prayer, for what i don't know, but you're holding, maybe it signifies hope, and dreams, maybe farmers would write their prayers on those kites, and fly them high, daughter is getting married, we could really use that little extra this year, ...