Standing under the rain tree even after the rain stops is not an easy moment. Those tiny leaves shedding what is left of a sorrow smile never puts a flame away. Each drop adds fury to an angry fire that rise ablaze. When the flame is lit at the roots of the tree, which single drop is to blame?
The rain tree and many others were there all my life, like a nation of multi cultured people. Huge, old, uprooted and no bark at bottom at all. But still today it has the same tiny and as many beautiful leaves, like the many different yet respected people it had ages ago. Once bloom the beautiful crimson flames that never age like the traditions that once never failed to respect another.
A flame cannot begin or sustain without oxygen, heat and fuel together. Other than a natural cause, a simple single action is needed to begin a tiny bud of flame that grows into many blooming blossoms. Many fuel fall to smell the bright mesmerizing blooms keeping the proud flares abloom.
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