As I Fall With The Rain, a poem by Richard Grahn at Spillwords.com
Emma Trevisan

As I Fall With The Rain

As I Fall With The Rain

written by: Richard Grahn

 

Right now, I hear
a knock at my door.
I listen
as if there is
some great meaning
attached to my spine
where the nuts and bolts
have yet to rust.

Rain spatters my window.
Its gentle texture
a reply to
the question why
I slept right through
the morning
and into afternoon.

There are trains at the station
and sugar in the bowl,
acorns in the forest,
and worms coming to the surface
as the downpour unfolds.

The room is cold and bare.
Curtains cast their shadows,
as if someone might be here,
teasing my imagination
as if I really care.

I open my eyes
and listen to the patter.
Just this space remains.
The ticking of the clock
resounds with every drop
of rain.

Still, there is a reason
I wake up every day:
to become a raindrop
in the stream,
to gather all the peace within,
and spill myself
into the waiting earth.

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