Rain falls wistfully
Giving the seconds a voice
Like that of children playing
As we huddle inside, watching.
The wind raises its voice
To try and drown out
The joyous songs of the
Melancholic rain; winter jealousy.
Listening to it fall outside,
I decide to settle in
And find my reason for being.
Not even knowing how many reasons exist.
Ah but before I begin
The wind howling through the cracks
Has something to say:
"My howling is my living,
I howl not to be heard
But merely to exist."
Before I could say anything
It flew away amongst the clouds,
Whispering: "I know you."
I found comfort that I am known to the wind
(Rain dividing feeling like a sword.)
But then, what difference does it make?
(The heart is a Universe for it is everything that is ever felt.)
What a ridiculous folly, to try to
Influence the lives of others
In order to enrich our own!
(At what hour, will the water from the hills
Reach the hungry sea?)
I stop once more,
To listen to the rain
And wished I didn't know anyone,
And knew only that which I listened to.
I feel sorry for the little rain drops.
On the journey from heaven to the street
They befriend an infinity of fellow rain drops
All sharing the same journey, until they
Hit the ground, and never see each other again.
What do they do then? Do they befriend
The holes in the asphalt, or do they roll away
Into a lonely crack in the barren pavement?
Just as the rainbow that must come
So it is inevitable we complicate
A simple need: the need for closeness.
If only we could just let it happen.
We know instantly who it is
We want to open our hearts to
And who we want waiting for us
In the dark hours.
It is so beautiful
When they accept us and we have
A knight ready to die for us
Through life's every crusade!
But it cannot be forced
Because it wouldn't be natural,
We make ourselves too attached
Or else too indifferent
In order to win their affection and admiration.
I don't want to stop listening
To the rain and the wind
As I seek a voice of comfort.
I want to be forever in love
With everything I see, hear and touch.
And right now it is the rain I love
For it is all I can see and hear,
And I can touch it, through my tears.
A contest entry
- Like a Watercolor in the Rain (prewrites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
490 points, ended January 25, 2009, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
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