Your voice was a quiet calm
a prelude to darker skies and
the storms you kept hidden
beneath cumulus smiles
You called me a storm chaser
maybe you were right, love
because I've always found the sound of rain
on hardened surfaces soothing
The gentle way water
patiently waits, biding its time
till even rock gives way and surrenders
forming mountains, and rivers deep
This is how canyons are formed
deep rifts within the soul
with nothing left to bridge the divide, pursuit becomes impossible
but maybe that was the goal all along
Maybe I pursued you knowing that you'd run
and you became my rainbow
Because you knew, no matter how close I think I am..
we'll always still be miles apart
Written by B. Dixon
January 21, 2015