Rainy Season Poem

 Last night the rain came down steady

like a tape you listen to

to help you sleep, only 

it was really there.

Eternally enabling rain, sometimes a rant,

sometimes a whisper, a thunderous 

message, chiaroscuro of roiling clouds,

always a magical freshness after.

My place has so many windows and doors

the storm passes right through.

I like the exposure, the nakedness.

The weather has always been my mother.

We are part of nature, wouldn’t you agree?

The edifices,  monuments, city streets

laid out like the grid of someone’s mind

can’t hide the fact we’re made of earth

and to earth we will return.

Maudlin enough, maybe, but when was 

the last time you had your feet in a stream?

Rainy season is like a dream...

the rain itself a constant theme 

caressing thoughts away.