so i was lying in bed, listening to the rain hitting the roof, which was out of sync with the clock set to the time of somewhere else. i remembered the cyclone of 1986, standing at the french windows that led to the veranda of the house on Mourilyan road, watching a lychee tree roll down the street. such force. awe inspiring..
i’m tempted to write about the down side, but i know i shouldn’t think about it.
Don’t look back. And wipe that tear from your eye.
While i’m grateful for what i have, there is still that little voice asking “what if..?”
what if (waybackwhen) i didn’t wake up, and move on.
what if (waybackwhen) i’d given in, and rolled with the force, like the lychee tree.. (we can’t stop here.. roll on).
it was force vs force. I was going one way, he was trying to push me another.
regardless. i won. i got here..
and what a prize…