Rain when He Dies, Rain when She Lives, Rain when He Gets Born Again

It was April 20 when I wrote the draft of my Wednesday’s presentation, the Holy Monday of Orthodox Easter with all the Christians’ joy and glory that our God’s Resurrection had brought among us and within our hearts. It coincided with another date of our history; an event of smaller, human, scale happened to a man and special to just a part of humankind, yet sad to those us all. That day they had found him dead lying in his condo. If I had been unsure what theme to choose for my usual today’s classes, the answer came alone, natural and convincing.


track >> PLAY
band >> alice in chains
lyrics >> rain when i die

Raining now. It is. I am sitting on the wooden floor nearby the open door of my terrace, at the edge between the in and out of my place, and my look stared down the crown of the yard tree picking up romance of spring. Anytime it would rain on a day like this, I would remember those few stanzas of Sappho’s piece of poetry.

By the cool water the breeze murmurs, rustling
Through apple branches, while from quivering leaves
Streams down deep slumber.

Beautiful words, they carry the poetry of my inside. The person who loves rain and the peace it carries, this is me. I remember to have loved rainy days all my life. They coincide with my internal harmony and nature of romance and melancholy. I can sit alone somewhere staring at the drops with hours. Somewhere in open, in touch with them, breathing their wet freshness with full lunges; or huddled in bed under my covers, listening to their sound of fairy. I would ever prefer the storms of nature to the burdens of this troubled world of humans. I have felt the warmth of greenery and safety in the clouded skies rather than I have ever found a man’s shelter from it all. Yet, I wait.

It is so often and it is so hard to hide from men urging to grasp you away from your peace. Seems one part of the humankind is born to obstruct the other from achieving their internal harmony and enjoying a common world of understanding. And this is how it is going to be until the end of the world; the eternal fight of good and bad cycling inside ourselves, and then again between us and the rest. Some will be born to follow steps of God and others, to create saints and martyrs from the first. Some will throw stones all their lifetimes, and will only love when they kill. In the end, as in the beginning, we all stay children of God for love is given equal for all.

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