Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap
The drops rattle on the tin roof
Is it Morse code?
Is the sky talking to us?
The gusts of wind blow across the sky
Changing the rhythm of the song
Picking up the pace
Then slowing down to a waltz
Teardrops tap on the window
Begging to be let in
Before sliding to the bottom
Long fingers trailing behind
The trees wave from the edge of the meadow
Beckoning you to come
The wind whistles through the cracks
Calling you out to play
To come out and wash it all away
Let the rain find what’s hidden beneath
Beneath the dust of time
Come out and be embraced by the elements
Dance among the puddles in the streets
Splash with the teardrops from the sky
Swim in the air with the elements of time
Close your eyes and remember when
When is the last time you felt the rain on your face?
When is the last time you felt those long wet fingers run down to the bottom?
When is the last time you washed the dust of time off your body?
And soul
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap
Listen to that song
To be naked against the sky
Feeling the rain crying down on me
Walker
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
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3 comments:
wow! That was so natural... Indeed in the hustles bustles of life we know what is happening in the next country, but not what is cooking next door! strange!
That was a totally different flavor from your side, refreshing! :)
i love what your describe here... as long as it's summer rain.
Feeling the rain is one thing, allowing it, or welcoming it another. Nice one, Walker.
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