One bleary afternoon I thought I heard a loon, a loon. I looked out of my window pane but all I saw was rain, rain until I looked up very close
upon the glass and saw each drop has
shape and form and story to it,
some dripping toward a rivulet
others holding steady pace
some are rushing in the race downward, downward to the ground pausing
only with my gaze upon the haze of
light and glass. And then at last
I look beyond the glass and see
a sky who’ll never answer why the rain
incites such deep earth pining
for a sense of true belonging,
rain uniting sky and soil
watching as the rain recoils
and a deep, low hum of calm
resounds, abounds
within, around.
May 6. A rainy afternoon.
May 7, 2008 at 8:16 pm
One bleary afternoon I thought I heard a loon, a loon. I looked out of my window pane but all I saw was rain, rain until I looked up very close
upon the glass and saw each drop has
shape and form and story to it,
some dripping toward a rivulet
others holding steady pace
some are rushing in the race downward, downward to the ground pausing
only with my gaze upon the haze of
light and glass. And then at last
I look beyond the glass and see
a sky who’ll never answer why the rain
incites such deep earth pining
for a sense of true belonging,
rain uniting sky and soil
watching as the rain recoils
and a deep, low hum of calm
resounds, abounds
within, around.
May 8, 2008 at 8:40 am
Wow, Maia! It’s beautiful. Keep them coming.