Waiting for the Rain

Lethargy holds sway. People mop their brows, move reluctantly onwards trying in vain to escape the deadening blanket of heat. Like a giant hand held too close to the face the heat stops our breath, we gasp longing for the blessed rain.

The over heated brain yearns for quiet, a shady nook in which to find relief from the myriad thoughts and fears that pervade it, but the rain when it comes is warm and heavy providing little restbite from the giant’s all encompassing hand.