Poetry of Issue #7 Page 47
Rain Poems 2.Home
It is raining this morning
and the wind is forcing
the leaves to fall
the green ones’ wrestle
to stay on branches
the yellow ones’ surrender
without a fight
In the house
the old child glides his kite
while three sisters
holding hands and manes
think of spirals
half-moons
and love
A sacred heart is burning
flanked by and arch
with open legs
cuddled by red and orange leaves
grass, bubbles
and clouds
The windows capture the raindrops
to nourish Green Tara, Ganesha,
and the goddess of one breast
Leaning beside the steps
a mother and her son
embrace a fish for dinner
while the old lady waits for the bus
and the red Buddha rest with happiness
by the gateway, where the elephants hang.
Next door, the pianist
plays melancholic tunes
and the gust soften…
there is an intermission to sob
A candle has been lit
the smell of incense
conquers the mood
and the twigs dance with ease
amid the drizzle and the wind
It is still raining this morning
the foliage splattered over my walls
and now we are all here
Deities, leaves, hearts, moons,
waters, fires and poems.