Atmospheric Rain

Prose poem

Are we just statistical notions,
like fluid appearing in the eyes
as a result of emotion?
They are tried, dried and mortified.
Lost within a realm of reclamation hides within. 

 The babble of babies bawling grim cries.
Signals of distress stretch slight across the sky.
Blood runs thin in the thickness of ebony nights.
Dawn encroaches with morning dew and light.
The body and spirit does not lie. 

 While misery smothers the sum and sun
it is merely a fraction of our existence.
It’s a common mistake that generates hate.
It holds a spirit hostage and imprisoned.
How and what we do determines our worth.

 Is it just watery secretions or the secret of Divine consolation?
Hope is sporadic like lightnings evasive delight.
Faith shattered upon thunderous dusk and mustiness.
The smallest notions hides behind possible future flight.
 The bone dried dead can’t shed a tearful sigh. 

Pathetic, sniveling and insipid delineation of coveted wickedness.
The sorrowful merely mirror the grotesque simulation of sin.  
Ravaged bodies laid down by degeneration.
Do not forget the Devil never cried.

 Worry when the aqueducts of ardor
dry and evaporate like false mother’s milk.
For if lessons in shame, distrust and persecution
doesn’t move a person to darkness to retrieve unseen light
perhaps justice is reserved, as the soul couldn't learn to deserve better. 

 The purpose sits in between ingenuity and progress
to rectifying misdeeds and alleviation of another’s demise.
The trip on the road rides on the trifle or triumphant.
The downpour spits sheets of torrential flurry.
Resolution rests in spatial spurts of stillness. 

 Molecules of the universe elevates and accumulates in time.
Visions of beauty bring attribution and substance to solid minds.
The sign of times intermit with the attitude of the blind.
Mice in a maze or planetary comrades in space
either appraisal dilutes sovereignty from humankind.  

 The privacy of precipitation or perception doesn’t reign alone
the brainstorms and distillation ebbs on cerebral and celestial homes.
The condensation is not to crest in condescension
of cruel, crass, criss-cross of conscious civility.
Cloudless blue skies and conspicious seas clarifies the tides. 

 The droplets from eyes cleanses dirt from drift
as the sparkle of shared slices of saline silence the storm
revealing our own prisms of light reticent like rainbows in the sky.
Pearls, dew, beads and droplets marks mass higher than particles of dust.
Illustrious and resplendent tears are born from heaven

Reviews

[nighttimesnoozer]

i like it