Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Rain, rain.

it rains so hard the water
leaks through these old windows,
so hard no other sound
but the wet
against everything.

a crack of what used
to scare the cavemen witless
and this screen cracks and flashes,
outside something valuable and electric breaks with a burst

the rain falls so hard
it reminds me
of God and his drunken retinue beating down flimsy doors
he is angry, or excited,
and has an infinite
number of fists

the rain touches everything deeply

me,  the ground, the mind of every person alive
lingering in their offices;
trapped in their pain,
or released by their love of beauty.

this furious pouring
comes against the hard pavement, these torrents beat and tear
at the pavement to
get at Her,
to free and succor the Earth,
to quench her hot thirst beneath us.

these deluges
weigh upon the tree limbs
and the antennas
and the signboards,
and they become heavy with life,

life drips from the lips of the living
in a rainstorm,
and the living smile,
and drink Her in

there is no choice but to think of you
in storms like these,
you woman whose name i will forget eventually,
because in the way you wash over my thoughts,
in the way I am made heavy and kind of ragged
with the weight of my feelings for you, and for what I see in your heart,
in the liveliness that lifts into my soul
like the renewed and vibrant green…
in these things I feel your effect,
your touch like endless soothing rain,

I am reminded of the fury and beauty of the storm,
of its kisses all along my body,
in a dream of being alone with you.

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