Under the trees, and beneath the rainfall the earth and air received it's cleansing. Through the woods, a path, or a small clearing among trees, narrow, accepting, and covered as a wound. I walked along and redundantly thought like a ticking clock: taunting my attempt of resistance to break this ever-lasting cycle of trepidation. Breathing in the rainy air I searched and found findings of day, yesterday, and tomorrow which further clouded and concealed the purpose of this walk. A fallen tree, change of grass, and thick brush which marked my destination and also hid the way, were just as soaked and dripping as the leaves of the willow trees which lay before me and clearly have a long sympathy, continue to simply weep with me like a bird whom is trapped in cage. My body was enveloped in the feeling, my heart beat as a clock ticks backwards.
I bolted out of the house of willows. But the helpless sprint wasn't out of weep, it was of the grey clouds lifting, and the cease of rain. The sunlight peeked through the clouds. Once off the trial I found my step, and the ticking grew faster. the feeling is exhilarating. I was angry that it took so long, missing out on the brightness. But I am thankful I'd been given time at all, not all do receive.