Of storms & mola molas

Why do people fuss & fret over the smallest things,
while others struggle to survive, without complaints.
It is after all, relative, they say.

Clouded in expectations,
The mind ticks & tricks,
And with vision impaired,
Magnifies & dramatizes.

Till tiny drops of rain,
Transform into unyielding & unshielding storms.

But storms do pass,
Revealing, if one bothers to take notice,
The fresh & inviting scent of renewed vigour.
Clarifying the tainted thoughts of muddled memories.

To focus on what's real & what's important.

In the pursuit of the elusive mola mola,
we sometimes forget to appreciate the equally rare twisters that we come across during our journey.
As they too are magnificent.