Mornin’ people. The heats rising already this a.m. on my third sippy the coffee. And the poetry has yet to reveal itself. As you loyal followers know, it will. BTW.. I have my story for the Entre-Slam next week. I’m Not telling it here, you’ll have to come hear me.
Rain seems best when not from the heart
It’s best when it comes gathered up
in those fat grey rolling clouds
filled with lightening and thunder
ready to burst wide and feed the land
Rain that comes from the heart takes
the lightening hits with anguish
and thunder shudders the hurt hard
through the whole body in a fever
Storming fast the drenched inside
Some rain is tender, soft to the land
Gentle on the heart in a patter of care
A little nurturance and giving
Melting the grey cloud to blue
with no tribulation to an open heart
All storms have a way of clearing out
Rain or tears inside or out
A great washing away for a new day
It’s noticing the gift of it
Noticing the refresh of the release
Maybe the heart’s rain is best.
Wonderful verse and photo. Love the colors in your blog design!
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thanks so much. I appreciate your feedback.
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