Braided Rain

This poem is part of my soul...

Braided Rain

 

Pains of birth rumbling nearer

like thunder from the west

unseen power

detaching earth from sky

me from you

 

Same song we've sung before

too close

or not close enough...

 

Tell me...

where do the bird's rest are weary and...

where do lovers go when going is the only thing left to do?

 

It is rainng outside

the rain is braiding itself down my window

beaded drops form liquid shadows

the walls call your name aloud

 

Letting you go I cannot do

though you may leave

and even untangle the braided rain from my window

you will never remove my touch from your lips

or my fingerprints from your face

 

Tell me

where do the birds rest when weary

and who will quiet the thunder now that you are gone...

  

Deidra Gist

 

 

Reviews

[Rick Puetter]

Dear Deidra,

Everything in life is braided and can't be fully untangled. Have you noticed, though, that braids are pretty and have their own charm?

"who will quiet the thunder now that you are gone"? Indeed. The most powerful line in your piece. Well there is no one. At least not yet. Maybe there will never be. But perhaps the thunder will get quieter or at least change character so it is not so threatening.

Nicely written.

Best regards,

Rick

[Naomi Montana Walsh]

This poem feel like part of your soul.. it is fluid like the rain , combustible like the thunder..just a lovely yet melencholy moment.. you capture the feeling so well..