human, in rain

 

today an ecstasy of rain descends
dawn is a chorus of fragile robin wings
too damp to spread or fly the darkened woods
I hunker beneath windows on the porch
moss fragranced by a breeze of pollen wind
that works thin cracks until they hold its scent

I feel a cold that will not thaw to sun
born by the river on the stones and fish
both lingering too near the beaten shore
lost in the rain on mornings such as this

 

why am I even speaking here of stones
and grounded birds and fish, as though I know,
the auras that surround their simple souls
I know no such a thing, even myself,
cornered on this hard and narrowed porch,
strung out, antennaed, frenzied of despair,
always searching life for something more

 

I half believe we come with ample space
to fill the empty air and make a change
that all the sun could fall in golden showers
that we could pause and listen till we hear
some universal orchestra, a hint
exactly why the smallest breathe is sent

 

Rain brings me to a huddle here on planks
until I fall toward sleep as an escape
I find the fetal shape as though I mean
to curl again into a waiting womb
instead I sleep to drumbeats and to cold

 

 

Reviews

[Chris]

The taste of echoes within soft closed eyes... and wonderings...
who-am-I's - what-am-I's - and even whys... you leaned into reality versus the nature's dessertation you seemingly began.

a beginning found... and appreciated.

Chris

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Oh what a feeling. An sense of peace and serenity wash over me with your words... I love rain and love the imagery you capture in verse.

[.......]

This is wonderful Phibby, enjoyed this

[E.H. Monroe]

a happiness within the tender plam of nature. Wheras some would b***h about the rain and what it brings, the one here has a space of contented calm. Drumbeats and cold almost makes everything uneasy, uncomfortable, etc.

obviously the images are tops, but its that section the end that makes you really have to re read it to see if the player didnt just s**t the depression bed.

Its a thinker, which is always appreciated...

bravooo

[W.k.kortas]

There is some of the late Jesse Hill Ford, who knew a thing or two about fishes, birds, and sons of men. That said, there just ain't no one else who writes like this.

[Ed Hart]

it takes a heart, it takes a heart, it takes a heart times ten, to sing a song this high up in the branches

[Emily B]

your words are always my favorite