Rain

quarter past midnight-
the breath of the city through
my open window
–
leafless trees-
darkened cars through
the driving rain

high above the clouds
all my worries down below
so far behind me
–
steaming tarmac-
a double rainbow
delays our flight

iron seas and skies
sailing into the north wind
my face to the rain
–
solitude-
my paddle dips
into glassy water

the burning forests-
gaia’s tears turn to embers
borne off by the wind
–
peals of thunder-
rain falling
on a wild fire

the patter of rain-
rocking to the rhythm of
the impending storm
–
on the porch-
the evening air
thick with rain

shellshocked and bleeding-
wandering the husk of a
demolished building
–
floating ash-
Nothing left but
deafening silence

along the roadside-
once a stately facade, now
a pile of old stones
–
gentle rain-
crows perch upon
a weathered grave

cloudy desert skies
bringing the promise of rain
and with it new life
–
parted clouds-
fresh cut tulips
on the table

the marquee of dreams
in the theatre of my mind
ripe with false promise
–
summer rain-
the blind
desert sands

angry thunderclouds
lurking on the horizon
heavy with cold rain
–
summer afternoon-
the scent of rain
fills the air