shedding the excess

driving home tonight from the bar, wipers quietly scraping the windshield, i noticed when it rains the street lamps look like they’re crying. as if each light sheds its excess in the form of tears, which soon turn to vapor the second they hit the pavement. so i slowed to a stop on one of the back roads towards my temporary home, pulling off onto the shoulder, and stepped out into the down pouring light. face turned upwards as if to say, “it’s OK, i’m here.” those four words i have heard in abundance over the last twelve days, the magnitude of which was not lost on me as i stood to catch the tears of the night on my lashes. to accept abundance when you have little or none to give in return leaves me feeling awestricken and thankful, yet truly unworthy. and as i walked rain-soaked back to the car, i felt the chill of vulnerability in my bones and it became incredibly clear in that moment why mankind learns to cry.