Sorrow is best enjoyed with rain, for what other wonder of nature so empathetically reflects the soul of man in grief. Grief for what? That, the rain cannot tell. But, the rain does teach, or, better, the Creator, in forming his wat'ry armies, teaches.
"When it rains, men scurry about looking for shelter. So it is with sorrow. Yet, if there is no shelter to be found, then what is the purpose of scurrying?" so I asked the rain.
"None", He promptly replied.
Realizing I had gained audience with my tormentor I asked, "Other men found shelter from your beating, why not I?".
So He replied, "When it rains, proud trees bend and drip under the weight of water. Sorrow bends any proud man. Yes, I can fell the thickest trees. Yet, the trees are wiser than you, O man; for though my weight bends and strains their thick fibers, they are grateful for it. Trees long for the rain; they know what I bring. They can see past the groaning and the pain to the stretching and expanding--the growth. Learn from the trees. I give them their beauty. They know this, and so they call me beauty. Learn from the trees."
"What of those who found shelter."
"Some found it well, some ill. A tree with no rain will die. To escape me is death. Yet their is more to life than water and salt. When the sun comes, know that I gave you your beauty. Learn from the trees. Though I am grey, I am beauty."
0 comments:
Post a Comment