Winter morns’ greets the rain
As it flows steadily outside my
window and I rest amongst the
serene to listen to nature’s ballet;
Today’s rains is different for there
is no accompaniment of wind to
sway it left to right leaving a trail
of past attempts to reach the gutter;
The rains are quiet and yet when I
close my eyes I can see the dance
outside my window as I imagine
my walk today without umbrella;
I lose my peace inside the drops
each one a memory of yesterday
washed away by the conclusion
of its journey from cloud to ground;
A journey I’ve wandered many a day
as life carried me through heartache
and pain only to find comfort in the
wisdom to release through subtle tears;
Such a long travail from the reason the
rains held in clouds above, carried over
miles and miles until the day arrives when
the weight of accumulation forces release;
Can’t carry the rains for too long before
the changing of seasons force the drops
hidden in clouds to find a place to go only
to learn their fate is in a downward path;
I stretch my hand to capture the drops
hoping to catch one in full form and see
within only to discover that the rains within
my fingers are the drops from my own eyes…
As it flows steadily outside my
window and I rest amongst the
serene to listen to nature’s ballet;
Today’s rains is different for there
is no accompaniment of wind to
sway it left to right leaving a trail
of past attempts to reach the gutter;
The rains are quiet and yet when I
close my eyes I can see the dance
outside my window as I imagine
my walk today without umbrella;
I lose my peace inside the drops
each one a memory of yesterday
washed away by the conclusion
of its journey from cloud to ground;
A journey I’ve wandered many a day
as life carried me through heartache
and pain only to find comfort in the
wisdom to release through subtle tears;
Such a long travail from the reason the
rains held in clouds above, carried over
miles and miles until the day arrives when
the weight of accumulation forces release;
Can’t carry the rains for too long before
the changing of seasons force the drops
hidden in clouds to find a place to go only
to learn their fate is in a downward path;
I stretch my hand to capture the drops
hoping to catch one in full form and see
within only to discover that the rains within
my fingers are the drops from my own eyes…