Poem: Sheltering From the Rain

Perched in the center is a huge white tent; almost invincible as the hustle and bustle of daily life goes by. The leaves of the grass are once again dancing in the afternoon downpour. Without a doubt there is medicinal magic in the rain water, just ask the plants. The downpour was predictable as the mountains disappeared from viewing. The mountains burst into a symphony of song while the trees clap their hands gleefully. The chairs lay bare and drenched. The opened doors of the tent allowed for the water to gush off the roof making its way inside. The rain is the master. Everything else remains in servitude as nature once again reigns supreme. Changing gears once more; it is now or never. A quick dash along the pavement out of the fury of the afternoon rain. Umbrellas are visible. Two soaked bodies shared a light green small umbrella as they hurried along the cemented area. A change in temperature very much welcomed . It is much cooler now than earlier. One brave or perhaps foolish damsel scampered from one area to another. The green sweater was no match for the rain, back exposed, her black sandals properly soaked. Such determination. On the other side two females ran across the paved area as they carefully navigated and balanced their lunches. While a young man fearlessly walked across with his black knapsack soaked so too his white T- shirt and black sweat pants. A tiny brownish frog emerged from nowhere! The creature was possibly startled as the activity picked up pace once again. The minutes went by slowly. Finally, a lull. It is time to get going again before Mother Nature changes her mind. A change of clothes from these damp garments is required. Where is the rubbing alcohol? Anoint your mole. Maybe an old wives’ tale. Nonetheless it has worked perfectly from generation to generation. Nothing is new in this life as we daily stand on the shoulder of Giants. © Wayne Campbell Happy #WorldPoetryDay #StandingontheShouldersofGiants