His voice reminded me of night rain
Deep intelligence sprung from the core of his mind
and bloomed into words
and I could sit for hours
listening to the night rain fall
without understanding why a single drop fell
so far away from home
Maybe it’s the comfort of words washing away the doubt
that creeps in on the brightest of mornings
that would cause me to welcome
a somber night of rain
with open arms
And when the rain stops
-as it has before
I will continue
stepping out of bus shelters
without thinking twice
and leaving umbrellas alone and forgotten
in the coffee shop
on the nights when I need them most
If I should be lucky enough
to feel again
I will speak in the night rain
to the lost souls hiding
in the bus shelters and forgotten umbrellas
looking out at the rain drops
and wondering why each one falls
so far from home