After the Rains
Today it rained. Clouds poured water
hard on all our heads
Tonight, the rains stopped,
but the clouds refused to leave.
Obstinate, they nuzzled their fat bellies
deep down onto the earth
and cloaked the night in heavy mist.
So later, when I walk outside
I open my eyes to see the fog.
I open my mouth to breathe,
taste sweet warm air
pregnant with moisture.
I open my ears to hear
only muted silence,
punctuated by the drip-drop-drip
of reluctant water,
clinging futilely to dormant trees.
My footsteps do not break the silence.
I come home and drop my pack
but stop, think, grab the last apple
drop my hat and go back outside.
I try to check the time, but my phone won't work.
I wander and eat my apple.
It makes a loud crunching sound
that breaks the silence
in a satisfying way.
I climb stairs onto a low roof,
where a pool makes a broad mirror.
For a minute, I look out from the ledge.
I take a pebble in hand
and toss it in the water.
The ripples fan out slowly
but reach all the way across the pool
where they rebound
and conflict with each other
to destroy the night's reflection
in their chaos.
The pool becomes still soon.
I throw another pebble,
then an acorn.
Water in the air bids me
wander more, and I follow
the breeze with my footsteps.
My spirit of air and water pulls me onward.
Now other footsteps ring softly out
and the fog muffles a few voices.
Soon I reach the circle of serenity
near the library, where the stones
say "peace" in every language
around a dove caught in
The waters nearly bring the dove to life,
but it holds its symbolic station.
A bronze book lies near
the library, to remember those
who lost themselves
in the fog.
Was it really that way? Probably
not. But life in water
and wind warps words, makes
meanings mean less in such
I begin to wander back,
and the slow rain returns.
The heavy clouds are full
and since they can't hold more water,
But the clouds are also lazy.
Their rain barely pierces the fat
underbelly of their fog,
and warm, gets lost in my
Slow rain makes noise and I reach
home, but pause. I don't want
to go back in, to abandon
the fog and rain and night.
I to check the time,
but my phone still won't work.
Time, time. In time,
the fog will depart, but for now,
let it rain.