Ante Meridiem Musings

How dare I contrast
Or compare

The gorgeous rhythm of rain
Upon this corner of the world
Stirring my morningtimes now

With predawn’s blessed birdsong
Celebrating a coming sun
Inspiring my risings back then

Have they not both awakened me

Keep Fallin’

I am ashamed at myself

For truck headlights I’ve studied from the front porch swing
That turned-tail and ran

For flowers I’ve cultivated from the heart for us
That went wholly uncherished

Heavy rains pour down
These dancing feet now dampened

I am ashamed at you

The Drop

The drop

Atop the chim-chimney, in evening’s early hours

Slow, slowly down rock, round midnight

Absorbed then disbursed by the skin of the roof before dawn

Why, oh why, can gutters steal you by sunrise

The fall


my voice evidenced
the most beautiful of white billowing
powered beyond the universe
since you decided never
now i sing of raindrops
silent, steady-falling



I saw him as dallying
In the rain
‘though so what if he was
That little old soul
That curious soul
When what was it, Actually
‘cept pursuing The truth
The absolute truth
The noblest of things….