Falling
As I stand on the street corner, clothes drenched with rain.
I watch as the clouds overhead torment the earth with their tears.
Falling
Falling
Falling

The water splashes against my face, hiding my own raindrops as the sorrow becomes one.
I look around and notice I’m alone. The rain grows harder.
Falling
Falling
Falling

I take a step and find the puddle that has grown deeper and wider during the downpour.
I begin to sink into the cold, bottomless pool as the rain begins its torrential crescendo.
Falling
Falling
Falling

I feel a hand wrap around mine and pull, saving me from the sorrow and darkness that was my fate.
I gather my footing among the leftover drops of rain and take in my rescuer.
Falling
Falling
Falling

I gaze into her stormy blue eyes and live a lifetime in the span of a second
I follow her brown hair as it surrounds her face like a painter’s perfect frame.
I catch the warm, inviting smile and suddenly forget the bone-chilling malaise that soaked me.
I see the knowing expression pressed on her face, finding solace in the shared storm.
I feel her touch and know that I’m wanted, that I’m safe.
Once again, I find myself
            Falling
                                  Falling
                                                           Falling.

The stars blinked their watchful eyes
The wind whispered its chilling secret
The water lapped its bubbling tales
The birds chirped their jubilant lullabies
As the sky continued its midnight slumber
                    Time marched on
The clouds rolled out their wispy carpet
The leaves shook their rustling dance
The grass bowed its head low
The blanket rested its warm embrace
As the moon ambled its unwavering path
                     Time lumbered forward
The laughter rang its gleeful tone
The conversations carried their bonded words
The stories gave their earned trust
The memories stored their detailed pictures
As silence settled into its comforting hum
                     Time forged ahead
As our wishes tossed their hopeful expectations
                     Time began to slow
As our words sang their secret song
                     Time eased its pace
As our eyes shared their soulful gaze
                     Time. Stood. Still.

I picked up poetry to write what I can’t say to anyone. I picked up guitar to play what words couldn’t find. Tell me why I’m running out of both ink and melody. Why has the pen run dry and the strings snap? Why has music failed to speak when the words faltered? Why have my words fallen short when music is silenced?

Neither letters nor notes carry the weight I seek them to bear. Neither sonnet nor symphonies echo loud enough for my meaning to be heard.

But I shall continue to write, continue to play. Because when the pen runs dry and the strings snap, there will still be creation left to do. There will still be a heart that beats the rhythm of a soul with a message to be shared.