June came with a blanket of clouds and an outpouring that reminds me that, as troubles never singly come; blessings follow each other in tow, as a gush from a broken cistern. The rendition from a million droplets hitting roofs, windows, the ground, and everything between, creates an atmosphere so early in the morning for metareflection.
June often come, bearing gifts and bugs. Gifts that waters the ground for amazing growth. A lot of times, as people scream and shout, "It's already the halfway point of the year, what have you achieved"; June is telling us subtly, now is when the fruit of your toil begins to take shape ahead of the harvest. Maybe, now is the time to also fall in love? It also comes bearing bugs that reminds us that life's in phases, and all things come good for those who allow nature take its fill course. June lets us look at it as a glass deemed half full, or half empty.
The last time I took proper note of June; bugs fertilised early and the troubles they hatched, left parts of me in bits and pieces many months later. Quite interesting that I have taken noted of yet another June nearly a decade later, with nostalgia and a few skip of the beat off my chest where it matters. Little wonder it rains so frequently in June, as a man suffering diuresis and refusing to slow down on his bottles.
June comes with thanks on my lips, for family that surrounds with warmth always, friends who cheer my heart with lively banter, work that keeps the mind oiled, and the enigma that sets me off in a maze. In truth, I am happy to be lost in this maze, as I find myself yielding at last, and wanting to be vulnerable.
