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

comes

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,

and

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.