It rained, and the path became a waterfall.
The snail, hardy soul, was slowing sinking.
I wondered “can they breath underwater?”
No, I decided, no.
So I found a stick and convinced the snail to take a ride,
up to the side of the path.
Where said snail continued on the way up the mountain.
I sat for a second. Soaking wet and cold.
Further on there was this waterfall I wanted to see.
I thought “Something just happened.” Heart hurting.
From inside tears came.
For every single thing ever caught up in the storm.
For dying babies starving on a rich world,
for those who ended time and left us behind to feel the pain,
for the crazy ones who, really, were the sane.
For the ones who can’t see past their own greed and hatred. And tears for the ones who can.
For all of those who keep trying no matter what,
and those who can’t.
The understood, the misunderstood, the liars, and truth seekers,
and mostly
tears for those who continue the journey here with me,
We who love, we who don’t understand, we who give, over and over,
And
A small snail making the way up a wet and stormy path.
Be well,
Bryan
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