fresh melon

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

I like watchin' the puddles gather rain

And all I can do is just pour some tea for two

and speak my point of view

But it's not sane, It's not sane

I just want some one to say to me

I'll always be there when you wake

Ya know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today

So stay with me and I'll have it made

And I don't understand why I sleep all day

And I start to complain that there's no rain

And all I can do is read a book to stay awake

And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape

escape......escape......escape......

[No Rain by Blind Melon]

awakened by the splash of melon light on white, i have decided that my day would be a little pastel bright. subdued and probably lucid. because in my mind swirls puddles of red and purple paint. and in this day of nothingness, i give in to the beat and in fact, enjoy the luxury of silence... as the lotus sits on top of the rippling river, bouyed by the wind of changing climes, i could find calm. nothing comes easy, especially for those who wait. but wait i must or what i've worked hard for will go to waste. it would have been just easy to walk away and forget, but, great is the heart that cannot be stilled. in its own will it clings and cleaves. its own way it chooses though the path is tinged with pain and torrential rain. and whatever the next minute brings, whether hale, rain, sleet or mist, the voice within will dance its rhythmn and to a breathing life it lays claim. yes it waits. and waits. for the next rain, or none at all.