Just a regular guy who happens to write poetry. more »
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Why I Pray For Rain
A poem is a raindrop
sometimes falling from ominous skies,
settling on quiet mountaintops,
destined for misty rivers;
and when she is born,
she knows not of white water rapids,
or salted oceans, or winding paths,
or of the darkest nights
where shadows taint her skin.
Yet, she goes down the mountain,
an explorer in search of earthen beauty,
as she gives life to pleading plants,
with one eye to the sky,
never forgetting where she came.
We poets are sometimes unworthy of raindrops,
of their courage, the language they speak, ...