January 25, 2008

Today was a glorious day of rain and puddles, complete with paper boat races down the gutters of Route 66. For me, rain begets poetry in my heart.

Sweet rain, the most beautiful of all poets,
Your rhymes fall without meter
Pooling into stanzas upon leaves.
Rhythmically your meditations descend
Whispering soft memories of my beloved.

The unconscious audience continues unaware
As your verses seep into song.
Softening somber soil,
Fertily feeding our fibers,
Reaching roots.

As your reading fades
The weight of your words lift.
We may now stretch toward the sun
Left in your wake.