I’ve been waiting for the rain to come:
It comes:
The raccoons have been eating in the garage:
The wedding cake is almost gone:
I’ve been waiting for the rains to song;
They song,
And how long have you been home under the roof
And not under the tree? Where are your children gone
In this old neighborhood and far away:
Where are they all going if not outside to play;
And they play,
And maybe the rain goes away: it hurts the voice of my
Heart to hear its absence in the gray:
Rainbows are gray knives who have been cutting their
Fabric to the sea:
Why don’t you think of me: I am like a scavenger looking
Up into a tree; and climbing up into the tree,
Waiting for the rain to come: for you to come down the
Narrow way,
Basking in the echoes of what little you’ve had to say;
And you’ll come
Tomorrow or today, and I will awaken inside the arms of
A tree that shouldn’t be growing here,
Full of song birds and then it rains
And you come: It happens, everything I’ve had to say
Happens on that great, great come and get it day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem