Proof That I'm Bi-Polar!

Or maybe the rain just brings out wild mood swings. In any case, both this and the previous were written today. Go figure.

Pushed politely along by a breeze, rain
Touches against the window in
Light taps, like a friend
Discretely whispering for attention.

My bed is below the window.
I’m still and warm under the blanket,
Sitting up against the cool wall,
Eyes closed: listening;
Trying to find a rhythm, happy to
Never discern one.

It would ruin the instance
If I did;
Like hearing a drum beat
Put to an aria.

The gentle chaos is
Soothing, inviting,
Not gray or melancholy;
Rather, it’s a private canvas
Primed and waiting for
Improvised brushstrokes of
Color.

Each flurry of taps brings me
Out of myself, back
Down to earth,
And closer to new, to now, than I have
Been in years.

My window is open enough
To catch the breeze,
The smell of rain, the sense
Of something rooting within me,
Set and covered like a seed
Pushed into soft earth by
Some old farmer
In the North Forty
And that will shamelessly bloom in spring
With raucous laughter
And wild sprouts.

It doesn’t rain enough
In California.


Cameron Wood, April 04, 2006

That's all - I'm puttin' away the pen for a bit.