RAINY NIGHT

Even in times of change, we have to believe we will have a chance at a new sunrise. Negative thoughts can swirl through our minds like a storm leaving a wake of destruction, and in the next howl of wind a positive ray of sunlight can shine--in that beam we will have a moment of clarity. What is it that we can awaken to and change?

If you would attain to what you are not yet, you must always be displeased by what you are. For where you are pleased with yourself there you have remained. Keep adding, keep walking, keep advancing. ~Saint Augustine

Rainy Night

Tsunami storms erupting from the earth--
wild raindrops hide from the moon light.
Years of yellow papers piled high on the
side table next to the sagging bedside;
black debris falling from the mind,
scattered across worn-plank floors--
wordless glares, cold fingertips,
sweating palms, smearing lines,
ticking time--a wall of water, and
headlights banging around
her empty bedroom.

She walks alone in dreams, a
silver river of broken mirrors,
doorways to bitter moments; roads
of worn black asphalt assaulting
her soul back to pounding rain.

Breath, pulse, beating rain, breathe--

Swirling through dense thorny words,
staring wildly in the eye of the storm,
a weary clouded mind begs
her weeping willow for forgiveness,

breath, pulse, beating rain, breathe--

Wrapping beating fingers around burdens,
a blank stare of questions,
emotions melting across bare shoulders,
black words are tattooed tombstones,
sharp wounds that keep bleeding, and
shattering small scarlet scars,
seeping blue in sadness.

And so it goes—
the sun creeps,
the day breaks--she
picks up another paper story,
reads words of a woman roaring,
and redirects her scheduled prose.