Poem of the Day: “re-membering”

from “the forgotten sound of rain

the mountain’s song of silence
i can carry in the cave of my heart
when i return to the city

the rain, however,
sings quite a different song
when it comes to town

the rain at the hermitage is music
percussion on wood and tin and stone,
on window and roof and on
something that occaisionally goes “ping”

lying in the dark listening to the rain
striking this stone and that leaf
soaking into the thirsty mosses
and patient lichens

the forest is now rich with scent
rivulets running down and darkening
the deep cinnamon bark of ponderosa pines
and all that fragrant forest soil

the dark is so thick and fragrant with the rain,
like a kiss or something more intimate

deep and intimate, but without the heat of the breath,
without the animality of passion it feels cool and refreshing,
a slowly seeping turpid tumescence thickens things
rising sponge-like with moisture

lie with me here a moment
and feel this…

feel both the coolness of the night outside
and the warmth of the space inside

can you feel how a frog,
beating in the palm of the hand
is a small green heart,
and how a hummingbird
hovering in the mid-air moment of anticipation
is a heart in flight

the forgotten sound of rain
fills and swells the heart inside
as much as it does the mosses
and fallen trees outside

can you dig dig the roots of the rain,
hug the tree of this moment with your mind?
can you hold it close to your hidden heart
close enough to feel its beating?

Note: from a longer sequence, the forgotten sound of rain,  still slowly being worked and reworked over the years.


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