Absence

even sunshine feels cold
in the absence of hope
where forgiveness is relative
to the falsehood of truth

even raindrops thirst
in the absence of touch
where tears tossed as stones
form ripples of sorrow

even wind feels calm
in the absence of balance
where opposites repel
with the magnitude of attraction

even earth looks to sky
in the absence of growth
where the disillusioned bare witness
to the shattering of dreams

Linking up with Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads

Purple Rain

"Into each life some rain must fall".  Henry Wadsworth

Sleepwalking

thwack, thwack, thwack

like a cold hard slap

the rain wakes me

 

the wind howls

I listen intently

its message incoherent

 

my vision blurred

by water soaked windows

yet I rub my eyes

 

at four in the morning

a cat purrs loudly

 as I sleepwalk into the day

Then The Rain Came

 

The sun blazes with such heat it's as though it just can't contain it any more.  A soft breeze whispers through the trees which seem to suppress a giggle as though being tickled.  There's the flapping of birds wings as they flit from branch to bird feeder and back again.  Buds burst open, giving life to old limbs . . . . .

 

. . . . . and then the smell of wet grass fills the air and I continue to smile, for the rain is as much a part of Spring as the sun.  I know it's story for I've heard it before . . . there's talk of green lushness, of growth, of new life, of all the wonderful things to come.

 

As I look to the clouds drifting lazily across the sky, witnesses to all the magic happening below, my grudge against Spring for arriving late is soon forgotten.

What Is

 

The rain continues to fall but there's a sudden softness; a quietness to it. Almost apologetic, sad that it was seen to lose its temper.  Yet it's reluctant to make future promises, especially ones it cannot keep.  So for now we take what is, the here and now.  Tomorrow?  Well that's another day.

I Feel It In My Bones

The sky, once blue, now finds itself draped in a cloak of grey.  Wind and rain shout obscenities through the window panes, unwilling to be ignored.

 

The chill of the air continues to envelope me long after I shut the door  on it.  Seeping its way down into my bones, holding in its gnarly hands the promise of something more.

 

Hoping that 'Sandy' passes us all by and that regular 'autumn' weather can resume again soon.  Stay safe everyone.

The Rain Came

Listening intently she thought she could hear the pitter patter of tiny feet . . . . .

As a child she believed that fairies existed and smiled at the memory of making fairy cups each time it rained.  Placing little receptacles for the fairies to drink from carefully in the ground.  Nothing quite as potent as childhood wonder and the air fresh with life and promise.

When the rain stopped and she saw tiny magnifying glasses disguised as water droplets she thought maybe it was tiny feet and laughter that she'd heard after all.

Linking up with Nancy for this weeks' Sunday Best.

The Rain Came

We've had some much needed rain the last few days.  I can't help but love . . . . .

how saturated the colors get after a good soaking . . . . .

how the green pops against the darkness of the bark . . . . .

how mushrooms burst forth with new life . . . . .

how the ground feels soft underfoot . . . . .

how creatures come out of their hiding places . . . . .

and woodland walks that let you experience it all.

A Splash Of Color

There's nothing quite like a splash of color on a grey rainy day.