The rain is here, it has made it´s announcement.
Now it´s setting in, little streams are slowly accumulating.
The birds are hush, the awnings droop.
I am at the window dry, trying to understand the morning.
The blaring noise of rainfall, a slight comfort.
For the day has formed, trajectory of hidden sun plotted.
From behind thick equipped cloud, layers and layers.
My mind sinks into that thought, layers of cloud.
My brain has refused to truly awaken, today.
It seems I can't let go, a desire to fall back asleep.
Everything is split into two, one dry, one wet.
Life is pure exaggeration, permitted and ridiculous.
But today is different, space for rain's exaggeration.
To irrigate the land, those matter of fact hobbyist gardeners.
Me, I'm fine with carrying buckets, The bare sun my stupendous muse.
Losing only by a small fraction, to the cool moon.
Neither of them will I see today, The irony is I love obscurity.
So I should greet the grey with cheer, Yet no joy sparks at all.
An inner warmth a higher calm, but desire for heat.
Showers continue, my burning quarrel never to be resolved
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário