A Grieving Galaxy

Lying down, the Inspector sought oblivion, an escape from the dirt and crime he faced daily. Instead, he was plagued with a half-witted dream. The cosmos wept tears wrung from the stars. Icy pellets of light, melted by moonbeams. He stood at cliff’s edge, the sea pounding furiously below. The barren branches of a hawthorn tree loomed over him, backlit by the stars. Its sparse leaves fell at his feet, the fading foliage etched with words. He gathered the leaves, arranging their gibberish into sentences, desperate to read their secret. A sudden foul wind snatched at his shabby collection, lifting leaves from the ground, swirling their sentiments around his feet before casting the leaves out to sea – knowledge lost. Pressing his meager harvest between the pages of a book, Tremaine hugged the text to his chest before the next gale could carry it away. The rains came. The galaxy grieved a deluge.
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Excerpt from The Tide Turns

​It has been raining all day. At times, a deluge. While so many other places around the globe have been suffering from torrential rain and severe floods, my backyard is parched. Local weathermen predict rain in their questionable forecasts only to have it disappear before a drop of water reaches the ground. It has been a harsh summer everywhere as global warming takes its toll, punishing us for our arrogance.
 
People in China, India, and Australia have come to loath the sound of rain given their devastating floods. I’ve flung open my windows, willing to tolerate the chill just to hear the sound of raindrops. One woman’s curse is another woman’s blessing. I doubt we will ever recapture that healthy balance in nature again given global warming. I find the overarching ramifications unbearably depressing. Watching today’s rain. I just wish it could wash away the foolishness of mankind so that we could collaboratively strive to retain what exists in nature, perhaps recapture some of what we have already lost, and protect it all for future children.