Two Seasons Of Rain

TWO SEASONS OF RAIN

Story tellers here know thousand tales about the skies that were azure. Should we meet again, let us not journey to the beginning.
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Before the beginning there was chaos. All sounds but none heard. All shapes but none seen. The winds and clouds, their voices the rolling thunder. Between lush hills and fertile plains,
where flowers bloomed ten months every year. And two thousand years passed like season. And so it is with men the bonds of their love and affections, which soon change to a land of sorrow and care. Why did I think, I alone should escape sorrow?

The dust makes me cough. A narrow street lined with shops. The sun was about to set with no road ahead. Full moon in the end begins to wane. It was almost down. There was nothing to forgive now.

There would be one thing to remember. Our eyes meet for a moment before I could lower mine. He hastened to fill the silence. His joy in me. Laughing with relief. A thousand sorrows now fill every inch of my sensitive being. Regretting the spring has so soon passed. There was nothing more to wait for.

After many moons the waters were again without a ripple and the skies luminous blue. Anxiously, I watch the road for return. The changing expression in my eyes. How air felt against my checks, as if there had been leaves underfoot.

When did I begun to forget? I no longer knew. But perhaps the world has changed, perhaps we shall all be free. The moon is never round for long, our time spent. Only in the azure sky there is the moon beyond the clouds. For fear that there is a painful journey ahead. Should we meet again let us not journey to the beginning. But the dreams we had dreamed must die in order to live, and the sea to be mine again. .

Tiding and letters have no way to reach now. All day things remind me and wound my heart.

I had long had it in mind, so dim, so dark.