and so it rains. and sometimes the rain calls.
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead,
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be towards what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
It’s so nice to see your posts again!
I love these photos, they hace such a nice color!
The 6th photo reminds me on my “Day 1” post, because somehow what comes out from the red dot looks like a flower bud 🙂 And the last one look like footprints!
I am looking forward to watching your further adventures, Pablo. Your 365 was one of my favorite journeys to follow.
Thank you for these additional kind words. ☺️