Liquid evening when the rains
Whisper to the lovers and soften
Their lips to comfort one another.
Drenched mornings when not even
Noah's dove can be spotted,
The solitudes as one makes the journey;
The thunder crackles tirelessly
On the windshield.
Liquid days when the earth is a fog,
When I admit I get lost at times,
Because the mist forms tears on
My face, and somewhere just above
The light shows how that it is half
There, such wet pessimism.
Rain like a sudden death
That invites grey days known as
Tears from Heaven,
A fitting farewell for the missing
Rain, liquid like old blood
That sits by a fire,
Cup in hand and reminiscing
On old storms as supplication
For the tired bones that once ran
To the lover, that once made love
In a slow drizzle,
Awaiting a final lightning.
When my soul hits bottom
I take a walk,
I feel the wet earth at my feet,
The drops on my face,
The thunder that makes me
Know I am small,
The lightning that shines the way,
And in the distance,
A ray of sun that escapes,
And I know this too shall pass.