of rain
it’s raining again, like it always does.
not really, of course. no, never quite really, but it’s raining again, like it does, like it has, like it will.
i can see it: a small storm, far off, looking like some sort of soft, harmless little thing….a thing i would like to be in, despite the chill.
but the rain: always at times like this, it is the rain that pulls me back, even when it is somewhere else.
just: the rain.
just that, and only that.
i don’t know, in the deepest sense, what the rain truly means to me. it has always been with me, always a part of me, always around me, even on the driest of days. the internal meanings change as i age, and as experience dictates.
there are days like this.
and sometimes there are lifetimes.
and sometimes, i don’t know which are the longer.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 5th, 2010 at 18:33 and is filed under infinism. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
on May 6th, 2010 at 12:21
Simply.beautiful
on June 3rd, 2010 at 15:26
I like the new updates you have added. As I have said before, “you write beautifully.” Like Rain.
on June 19th, 2010 at 20:51
I’m glad to see you’re blogging again.
on July 3rd, 2010 at 20:57
Thank you, Rachel. My writings are intermittent. I hope things are well for you and yours in Brookings.