Tag: writing

the rain

It is raining now, pouring.  The kind of rain that lasts all day; the kind that wakes you up in the morning and puts you to sleep at night.

The kind that washes all of the day before away, all of the worries and all the pain. Everything that was consuming your mind, gone. The kind that leaves you cleansed.

It is the rain that quenches the thirsty trees and brings flowers back to life. The rain at the end of winter, heralding springtime.

The rain that just falls and falls and falls, it seems as if it will never stop. The kind of rain that falls so long, the skies turn grey and you forget what the sun looks like.

And then, it stops. Just as quickly as it came, and as fast as it fell, it stops. The skies turn blue and the sunlight pierces through the clouds.

Suddenly you are grateful for the rain, because you know without it, you would not get see what always comes after.

a rainbow.

 

a ritual: for lovers

These gentle streets guide me to you

brought here by some unknown obligation.

I see the lights and they shine vermilion

the cars and the trains pass me by.

 

Footsteps play out of tempo

creating a sound I have never heard before,

yet one that is so familiar,

like some deep forgotten memory.

 

It is like these roads know I am approaching-

preparing the path, carved by your words.

Your breath; the breeze that lightly ushers me,

and your eyes; the lamps that light the journey.

 

My arrival is ritual, a voyager lost at sea,

a prodigal son, a solider from war.

I return just as they did; always to you

always, home.