Like a Child

The drops - they fall like bullets from the sky.

Each one stings my skin, reminding me of my pain.

Maybe the bullets aren't so bad...

At least if I can still feel,

I know my pulse remains.

Yet, with the shift of perspective,

the bullets become feathers,

brushing my skin like a mother caressing a frightened child.

When I decide to see the rain for all it can be,

my eyes can't open wide enough and my mind runs wild.

For the rain is here to quench the thirst of the flowers, trees, animals.

Though the skies darken and the people vanish,

it's really just a misunderstanding.

They run and hide and seek shelter to stay dry,

but there is nothing but cowardice and entitlement underneath those landings.

After all, it's only water, is it not?

Why do we flee from what another spends their days searching for?

It's because we've learned to stay dry - to stay safe.

We know to do as we've seen done and never question it more. 

But what of these raindrops?

These feathers... These bullets...

Is each one unique, meant for a special cause?

This one falls on my cheek, never reaching the grass it was meant to grow.

Did I interrupt its destiny?

Was its purpose lost?

Maybe it was on a mission...

To reach a single blade of grass and nourish it to health.

And here I am, stopping it, 

as though its purpose is of no concern to me,

when here its story I tell.

Perhaps the cheek-destined drop is a lucky one,

for it brings life to my face, 

stirring up so many words I must write down.

Yet there sits that blade of grass...

And there it will remain, without a drink and without sound.

What, then, of destiny?

Are we all set on tracks to either advance or disrupt that of another?

Or perhaps there is no aim...

Perhaps we let ourselves believe that so as to find comfort in our blunders.

"Everything will end up as it should."

"Everything will be fine."

But is it so?

For here I stand with a wet face,

and there lies the grass with no water to grow.

Or maybe it simply doesn't matter.

So what?

The rain found my cheek before it fell to the ground.

But even if not,

I refuse to live to eat and sleep,

never questioning like a domesticated hound.

So, here I will continue to stand,

bathed in water,

whether it be in wonder or in pain.

And here I will continue to ponder,

to ask, to explore...

Like a child, who instead runs outside to play in the rain.

Author's Note

Opinions appreciated!

Reviews

[OBWhiteHawk]

Wow this is really deep and intense with a lot of symbols that could be interpreted many ways, I like how the concept of water seems to come back again and is even repeated at the end in the form of rain.

[Troy Henson]

This is a great piece of writing. Stanza 1 and 2 grabbed me immediately. We are only human and what we feel is our perception. I like the shift between feeling pain from bullets then a softer touch of feathers with a change of thought process. Well done:)

[A Poet Named Garit]

this is definitely one of my favorite works by yourself. i'm a HUGE fan of lengthy pieces. As for the work itself, I like the thought provoking subject. Stanzas 8 and 9 are definitely my favorites, I like the rhythm, flow, and content of both paragraphs. Great job on this piece! :]

[zainul]

Very enjoyable read.
Your poem is thought provoking.
Thanks for sharing.