Vectors

Cycling in the rain today

Instead of a thought experiment, I tried a Physics one.

For a change, it worked-

If I went a certain speed, the rain didn’t drench me.

 

They talk about the beauty of Physics

But you see, the rain is not beautiful

Because of physics-

Vector additions and relative velocities

Could never capture it,

A single arrow and a Greek letter

Just aren’t enough;

Because even though they’re three-dimensional,

The rain isn’t.

 

The rain contains multitudes

More than the paltry seven of its flamboyant brother;

Rain is the shy sister,

The chill dude who’s lost the ability to be drunk at all

The noisy neighbourhood gossip

The belligerent goddess.

 

Rain is the soft, tinkling melody of the harp,

The thoughtful moans of the violin

But it’s also a rock band-

The passionate beat of the drums,

The electric guitar’s badass solo

The powerful singer’s voice.

 

Rain is your soaked t-shirt

Hugging your soaked body,

Water which makes your scalp its drum

Water from an unseen faraway ocean

Still salty, dewing on your lips

Coursing down your skin

Like the thick, red liquid inside.

 

Rain is the Earth’s mentor

Revealing hidden sights

And its hidden smells

Which can get you higher than any drug ever could;

Even the stately stoic tree swaggers in its drugged dance

You’re only human.

 

Rain is the emissary of the wind

On whose wings bronze leaves fly,

Which blows your hair back

And makes your shirt ripple

And sprays you with rain’s fine mist.

 

Rain is not

The grey melancholy cloud

In a depression cartoon,

It’s the tonic of the parched blue sky and the thirsty earth

The lease of life for a latent flower

The muse of a poet with a bicycle.

 

Rain is complex, with infinite multitudes

Even a poem can’t explain;

How can a vector?