March rain must be greeted,
Windows unlocked and flung open
Fingers questing in the dark
For a few drops of
It-gets-better,
Cold and clear like every river,
Soft and uninvasive like grateful tears-
Finally.
Rain must be welcomed
Tenderly;
It is a fragile thing
As much as it is a wild thing
And it needs the tremulous touch of your fingers
As much as you need the reassurance of its rhythm-
It-gets-better, it-gets-better,
It gets
Better.
And that is why I fling wide the curtains
And fumble with the latch on my own personal pane of blackness
And reach, gentle and breathless, through the little gap
Where the wind sighs cold
And feel the words change my fingerprints-
It-gets-better, it-gets-better,
It gets
Better.