Wash Away My Sorrows

Wash Away My SorrowsWhen I can’t sleep I listen to a rain track. The steady drum of the drops hitting trees. The patter of the water collecting in spots and hitting solid ground. I can imagine the smell of the ozone and earth. It reminds me of camping with my sister and mother, of seasonal Oregon nights. If a sound could soothe my soul it would be an Oregon rain storm. It is blanketing and a little bit sorrowful, but promises to nurture deeply. The sad rain gives nourishment to the bright green hope of tomorrow.

I’m sitting on the couch listening to mother nature’s gentle symphony, with the whispers that tomorrow is another day. I don’t want to get up because just for a moment I can pretend that if I peer over the couch I will see Jupiter’s feet and his sleepy head dutifully near as he slumbers.

It’s a perfect moment, both happy in remembrance and sad in reality. The trees and skies are crying with me.

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