Wednesday, August 15, 2012

The sound of rain

The rain drums
its nervous fingers
On the awning
outside my window
Our lives filled
with mis-opportunities
And unrealized ambitions
But it is the sound of rain
That gives me pleasure
You can’t fake that feeling
As if some primitive
Excitement born
Out of the caves,
Making me shiver
And laugh
I ache to feel safe
Even when others
Tell me how sorry
I’ll be
Safe from the ravages
Of the storm
I know can’t touch me
Where I really live
Full of “sound and fury”
But no real threat
I feel clean
If just a little sad
Hearing the desperate
Whisper of the wind
And the voices
Of those still lost
In the midst of the storm
Holding nothing
But the cold wet air
Feeling nothing
But their own despair.

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