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Maybe Eat a Mango

 Maybe Eat a Mango The face is glum, the day is ho-hum, When the blues come a-visiting, And the heart feels heavy, When your footsteps are slow, And your mood is low, Maybe eat a mango. Nose sniffing the ripe fragrance, Senses awakening to yellow radiance, As water pours over the mango, A small corner of the soul a-washes, The knife carves out goodness, As it cuts into the mango’s tenderness, With wafts of sweet delight swirling the air. You bite into sunshine, gold, Your heart assumes the softness of the mango, Your face melts just a little, Your eyes unfreeze a smidge, The mango’s glorious taste consumes it all, The blues, the mood, the ho-hum Maybe eating a mango turned the day around.
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Trees in the Rain

 I've never noticed this before. 

I was gazing out my window at the world trying to escape pouring rain. Motorists parked under shelter, cars slowing down and people hunched over under their umbrellas.

The trunk of roadside trees was soaking wet. How did I miss noticing this my whole life? It was raining cats and dogs, and the barks of tree trunks lining the road were drenched. Huh.

I've known leaves of trees in canopies high above to drip water in heavy rain; to get washed clean and shine new. I've also been vaguely aware of branches that jut out horizontally to dribble water as it runs down the top of the tree. 

But a tree trunk being oozing wet from rainwater? Well, there are firsts for everything. What happens to the bark when it gets too wet? Is there a threshold of water than the bark can hold before something bad starts happening? Does the tree use the moisture from its wet tree trunk in a different way? 

Today's deluge might be a metaphor for life's troubles and perceiving the wet tree trunk might be a metaphor for the value in looking at something with a fresh set of eyes. 

Yeah, yeah.





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