A Dance

Hello Rain,

My shaking knees

will join your many footed song.

For all around I hear the echoes,

see morning’s gleam across the window—
a screen set in front of me.

With blips and bleeps and splashed up soot,

the ebb and flow of cloud and sky

reminds me of a feeling felt, an unblocked glowing surge of self.

But steeped behind the splattered glass,

where thoughts are dread and fear is met,

there on the ground where I once sat,

no thoughts can come.

No thought will come

but the slow, antagonizing call

of the wish-washed thought that begat it all.

For there is no proof, none to be found,

in sky, in sea, beneath the ground.

That gathering storms and burdened clouds

will change by their proximity.

Oh join me, join me, join me now

where wetted thoughts make whispers free,

and Let Rain’s fountain gather round

your hoard of unwashed misery.

Even now,

Cloud comes round,

with whitish face and still grey thoughts.

He heaves his sighs against the ground,

His foot can waltz a soul around.

And slowly, you will hear the call

of rain and man and shaking knees.

And find the world’s been left behind

the dance that happens in the trees.