Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The rain falls

The Rain Falls

I come to this moment of return
Without a pale breath to feed me,
Without warning, without
The threads that got me here.

I am picking up a thousand instances
Where I dropped time on the floor, astonished
By what it said:
That it dared to speak to me.

That I dared to listen.

And altogether, I am helpless
In the art of living;
I thought I knew 
The way things ought to be

As though what in them were preserved
Unbroken, undistorted
Even though I touched them
And hurt them with my cares.

Where is my trust, my trust
Where are the ones who loved me,
Held me up?
Geese cry in the morning

As though they, too, are lost.
Yet their light
Has not yet begun to fail;
They know their Way.

I do not know mine.
This is the fate of those,
Who go into the unknown.

The rain falls.


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