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kelsie-kullman
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I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
kelsie-kullman
When It Rains, It Pours
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
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