Memories in the Rain

glorious yesteryears

I stare outside the window

and watch the outpouring of the heaven's tears

bathing the thirsty earth with its delicate drops.

 

The rain is trying to tell me something

so I attune my ears to the steady rhythm

and listen intently to the song between the pits and pats.

 

I close my eyes

and will the volume of the music

to drown out the noise of my consciousness.

 

And in the black nothingness

in a world behind closed lids

I see the vivid images of flooding nostalgia.

 

I find myself drifting back to the memory lane

of scented roses and of the smell of the raindrops

-- A faded past of a faraway long ago.

 

 

 

I see a pig-tailed six-year-old

eyes brimming with incomparable innocence,

laughing as she clings to the hand of her father.

 

Her happiness is under the shade of a tree

where she and her daddy are waiting for the rain to stop

(She never tells him she wishes the opposite to happen.)

 

Years pass and she's quite a woman

and men flock for her attention, not knowing that she's in love

with that boy who shared his umbrella one summer rain.

 

Now time has made her a definite beauty

but only the rain sees her still playing and dancing in craze--

also the sole witness to her very first kiss.

 

Months pass and rain is no longer a joy…

Scarred by teenage love and lies, she bleeds

and bitter tears find consolation in the company of raindrops.

 

Feeling the drips all over her skin,

drowning herself in the flood of pain…

Laughing, loving, losing…

Dying.

 

She remembers everything.

 

She wants to hold every drop of the heaven's tears

‘cause every drop is a precious memory--

memories made, memories capsuled,

bridging the gap between

the dreaming and the now...

 

 

 

My eyelids flutter open

and rainbow colors pierce the black-and-white.

 

The rain has finally stopped singing

and earthly noise fills my ears..

 

I'm back to reality, I breathe.

 

Yet, in the recesses of my brain,

I always hear her cries,

silenced by the weeping of the rain.

 

Author's Note

Original link: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/arzeljoy_blu/1242637/

Reviews

[I Am Svetlana]

What a stunning write! My dad, little sister and I were sitting in our family room yesterday as a thunderstorm rolled in and it began to downpour. The rain came down hard, but somehow, you could always find a rhythm held within it, a song. There's something about that's so innocent to me that it becomes beautiful. I adore the story you told within this and I think I could most relate to the six- year old one, though I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because my dad wouldn't always let me play in the rain. I'm not sure cause I can't quite remember that far back in my childhood. And I always love the image of a girl in rain lots, a raincoat and an umbrella just walking around outside, twirling her umbrella. Perhaps also she's humming to herself? Wonderful imagery and you took me to a peaceful place in time, one I truly wish to visit again :)

[Chiradeep Patra]

Lovely imagery! Your word constructions are fabulous! I loved each and every words that you use in the poem. Keep entertaining with your word imagery!

[Gilda]

I love your use of imagery - I can see all the scenes unfolding very clearly. I like the narrative here as well, and how you've used the rain as a kind of metaphor of innocence washing away. Beautiful poem :)

[KAin]

A reposting from another account? No matter, I'll review here...
I enjoyed this poem a great deal - there's a lot to like about it - the narrative style, and the frequent and creative use of metaphor and simile to tell the story.
The tale of love is well-encapsulated, and it feels like a great deal of effort went into this - it shows. There's a loving attention to detail here, to the romance in the feelings, the imagery, and you've made the sensations very real.
Good work, Arzel... keep it up.

[Blue]

Million thanks for a priceless friend. :)

[KAin]

You're welcome, Arzel.