Rain World

Funny how something as simple as rain can bring you out of yourself and refocus your view on the basic beauty of water in motion. I stared out my window at a gray. rainy, chilly afternoon and my first thought was: "Is the sky weeping for me?" Although I suppose one can be forgiven for some self-centeredness when ill, it really was a silly question. Then I remembered to remove my self-pity filters from my eye's lens, and focus on the beauty at hand.

Falling rain twists the world into fantastic shapes and changes the rhythm of everything it touches. It defies gravity and loves to dance on window panes. For a time, I simply stared, lost in the liquid grace of wind-driven rain, stepped out of time and away from my broken (but healing) self, to see and hear the wonder of an early spring rain.

Mick


Rain World

Is the sky weeping for death of winter,
Or is it weeping for me?
Must every gray slash of rainfall splinter,
Images I want to see?
Great gray gusts of rain-filled air twist and dance,
Lively on my window pane;
Then tiniest knife-edged rivulets prance,
Pirouette, and fall again.
Wind-driven sheets form to laugh and splatter,
Pixie drops that drip and splash,
Grandfather drops, with so much wet matter
They burst with a gasp and crash.
Past the glass, I see black tree limbs quiver,
Quicksilver in the wind's sway.
I swear I can see the tall trees shiver,
Wind-blown on a chilly day.
The road and sidewalks all shiny and wet,
Reflect each walker's quick tread.
The car and the truck lights shine bright, and yet
Streak and smear as past they sped.
Drowsy and silent I watched it unfurled,
Wind dance and liquid light.
My own whimsical, water-colored world --
Outside my window tonight.

Mick McKellar
March 2011