Roopali 7h

"With your tiny drops,
Can you obliviate my memory?"
I ask the rain;
I am scared of the happy ones,
For I know,
I can never live them again.

When the blues hit.

"What’s she like?"
She’s like a summer storm—smack, boom—and then the heavens break and she surrounds you and you can’t help but dance.

"No, what does she look like?"
She looks like moonlight and meadow flowers, like breathless laughter through a silent house.

"But is she hot?"
Fire is hot and she is a supernova. Smoke stings, but she—
she is suffocating.

The key does not fit
And the lock does not open
For this place I called home
Is no longer my own

Will they know the feeling
As they gaze from
The second floor window
"This draft gives me goosebumps
As the rain dribbles down the glass
And the dog is howling
As it thunders over the veranda
But it can't touch me
I am safe
I am home"

The season has changed
And you've moved away
Now the rain's pouring
And I don't feel safe

Let it rain
in my soul.
No more pain.
Lord, take control.
Don't be afraid.
It will be okay.
The price is paid.
He'll always stay.

Puddles of water
splashes around.
Bundles of rain
falls on the ground.
Sparks of lightning
and roars of thunder
A covering umbrella
keeps us safe under.
Dark clouds
turn to a dark gray.
Sitting inside
for this rainy day.

Heart beats without grief
Harmonies lost in the rain
Feather drifts gently

© Poem by Lyn-Purcell.

When the rain came
And washed everything away,
You faded with it.
And I,
I remained
Because I had built my home there.
I will wave you away,
And I will wave that house away too.
I am an architect after all,
And I will build again.

9/4/17

"I am freedom itself" hummed aloud,
the wind that passes agitating tree tops,
air am I, the giver of life,pumping energy"
"I am with you" I echoed his song sans words
"Though I won't hazard a guess where do we go"
"Don't you bother, our circumnavigation is yet another
of the stories, in the compendium,universe  does cherish.
We belong to all, as movement that never ceases"

"Get in to my vehicle, the heat'll  look after the rest,
the transporter,that makes everything light,
by burning down, I am the transformer too"
"I am the hunger you possess" I replied
"I eat and digest, create growth, make things move,
in my loins is the hunger to procreate,progress.
Once the hunger is satiated, I get back
slithering in to the burrow, like a serpent
Anger I become when I decide to destruct,
it's from the ashes of the old,the new is constructed!

"From the salt in me,everything living sprout"
earth, the begining and end of everything
in customary silence,implied, I was overwhelmed.
she is the nurturing mother of every seed with the
potential to life, wants to open eyes to the sun
then grow roots deep to entrench, stand erect,
"I am one with you mother earth, from you
sprung my body, that seeks light, rest at night"

Sky was full of birds,regaling in every presence
in it's fold, sky beams"I am a vessel fathomless,
come in to my space open,dance your way to bliss,
and seek wistful dreams written by interstellar light"
"I am filled by you where there is an absence of other
my mind limitless is in you exist, I am you in spirit,
when I withdraw from all,I am all in you, nothing left"

Water did speak both to my silence and eloquence,
water is beyond the markers of darkness and light,
From earth to dust, dissolving to be water and flow
from one kind of existence to other, till the limits of cosmos.

Droplets of water fall graciously down the skies
And all of the students will think of suspensions of classes
Those little bags of waters hit the ground and smashes like glasses
Pieces of it embraces the cold pavements creating puddles

Lightning ran across the cloud like human veins
Giving life to the dead and dark clouds
Thunders roared like the orchestra playing a vigorous melody
Leaving a shock to the ears of the mortals

I bet God is the greatest artist that never signs his works
Its hands left it there to be used by everyone
Though some of the abuses is masterpiece
God is generous and understanding
Because not all people were given the sense of art
Nor a great understanding with things,
So its hands take his brushes and paint it again,
creating a new piece of his changing canvas

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