Rain falls asyncope
white noise splattering
on dry ground...
I listen for weeping
from Heaven but
only hear sibilant
rhythm of falling water.
I look outside
to see its dance & splash
as drops impact stones
& dirt & a nearby pond
creating ripples on ripples,
storm a microcosm
of my own lachrymosity.
I open the door,
step out into a gentle shower:
Turning my face up,
I watch drops approach.
Opening my mouth
not to speak but -
extending my tongue -
to taste.
An acrid bite of moisture
explodes on impact
& I fall senseless,
engulfed in a sensation
of wetness:
just another ripple
in the pond.
(October 19,2005)
Dear Hugh, A delicious word painting. 'storm a microcosm of my own lachrymosity' is effulgent. It really is comforting to know there are bona fide poets at PH, and you sir, are indeed one of them. Bravo! 'the harmonious unison of man with nature' -Thomas Carlyle, essayist and historian. Supportively, Gregory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very expressive write; great wording to describe standing in the rain.