The Rain

The rain washes the colors off the canvas

But it can’t erase the lines

It disguises the tears running down my face

But the feelings can only be healed with time

The walls and the roof used to keep me sheltered

But the window shattered, so I’m no longer safe from the weather

The sun burns, the rain falls

Creating reflective pools to match the shards of broken glass 

That still lie strewn across the floor

The power is out

But I can see when the lightning flashes

A moment of clarity

When the thunder crashes

And the gleam of the glass

And the glare of the water

Reflect on the walls, like the flurry of stars that hides behind the storm

The dots and lines on the canvas match their constellations

And paint a picture that never stays for long

With enough time, the sharp edges of the shattered window will round down

Into beach glass that sits upon an expanse of moments

Or erode away into particles

That fill the ever-running hourglass

Spilling sand down without the clock’s tick to mark its pace

More forgiving in its silence, and yet crueler in its subtlety

When the rain has gone

And the water has seeped into all the cracks in the floor

To fill the empty spaces no one can see

I will remain in the silence

And if the clouds have gone

I will look out the broken window

Without glass, nor storm to hide the sky

And I will see that all the stars have left me 

The only constellations are the lines across my canvas

Clear and clean and colorless from the rain

The darkness holds comfort, but it doesn’t last for long

So I light a candle and begin a new sky upon the canvas

The window has given me both tool and subject

And so I draw the constellations once more

And watch the dark sky bleed red into the burning sunrise

And wait for another day

To be washed away 

By the rain