It is a sunny afternoon, bright and refreshingly soothing. About the time of the day when the skin becomes more appreciative of the majesty of the solar Queen. The early morning dewdrops have succumbed to the temper of the day, even as shoe soles become so sober that they are almost derelict. The body, in an altruistic demeanor, allows sweat to pay homage to the ascending Queen. The sun, like the great Apollo himself, is gracefully seated on her venerable throne. Then, in a sudden spree of celestial shenanigan, comes a cloudburst, that soon culminates into audible pitter-pattering. The once smiling sky suddenly becomes nauseous, throwing up, like an expectant mother in her early morning sickness. Surely, the King of the sleets is passing by. Oh, it is raining. But, how, the sun is still shining?. A heavy downpour in the wide glare of the sun--this is LIQUID SUNSHINE. What cosmic syntony! If only humanity would learn from these colossi, who, despite being Queen and King in their own respect, still manage to work together without acrimony. If the sun does not feel disturbed or usurped by the rain, and, they both functionally coexist, human beings should strive for political, religious, social and professional compatibility without demur or petty querulousness.