rainsong

I found this gem posted in my facebook "notes" of all places (does anyone even use those anymore?!). I'm posting it because...well, because why not, but also because this is the only poem I have ever written that I don't loathe. Oh, and also because I want summer.


raw beauty

painted across the weeping sky

sunset: red and gold and orange
pretty standard.

but tonight—
tonight the rain sang her quiet selfless song
as the sky yawned pale yellow and distant dreams behind the trees and telephone lines
until the glowing cavern of fire and light splashed through the clouds
the air ablaze with radiance

and the sky poured out her soul on my feet and my face and my heart.

the breeze is in my hair
and every breath is summer showers
and every footprint fades
and even the perfect unreachable unnameable sky
cries herself back to the comfort of evening blues and greys
back to where she belongs
back to how she is remembered

but even though this night is now no different than any other

the quiet rainsong lingers

her melody remembered in the grass under my feet
and the breeze brushing my face in a gentle passing caress

and my heart is still beating—
still glowing with an unfading image

a brilliant raw passion
an unfathomable tenderness
filling all the spaces of my heart
all laughter and sorrow and hope

and painted fiercely across the weeping sky