Looking in from the outside

Life
sprays, spurts, shoots.
Sometimes unexpectedly dousing me.
Others times more regular... constant.
But there is always movement, motion,
and a good dose of soaking going on.

I start to wonder if I really enjoy being wet at all.

So I try stepping out of the fountain,
craving to be dry, warm, alone.
I pause, letting the water drip off me
and pool at my feet.
If feels good to be free of the
perpetual rain.

Before I begin to enjoy this selfish venture
I turn to bid my fountain farewell,
only to discover that the very things
that seemed so intrusive
and interrupting
are quite beautiful from this viewpoint.

So there I stay.
Motionless.
Watching,
until I can bare it no more.
I edge closer so my toes can barely feel the mist
from the spray...
longing for the very thing
I was just trying to escape.
I hesitate,
wait,
think,
remember,
smile,
exhale
and with realistic contentment
splash back in to my
so called fountain.