
After the Rain
I move into the rain
Where life is real,
Detaching from dry dust of day
Its residue coating my thoughts
Like broken words
Orchestrating, motivating,
Stirring, pushing to external heights,
Crashing,
Dissolving in liquid
And wet socks.
Rain streams
Over eyelids and cheeks,
Over-flowing rivulets,
Cleansing,
Falling on fertile lips
Waiting swollen
For a happy ending,
Winter clinging to an earth
Of resilience
Despite blight and sounds of cold snaps,
Increments of anxiety,
Internal waves deafening momentum,
Breaking inward, outward,
Out of proportion,
Or is it only an illusion?
Raindrops trickling,
Reminding me,
Surface of skin, warmth
Of salt, and memories
Like pale pink berries still warm,
Still succulent with summer’s sun
In that rain long ago,
Water remembers
My heartbeat fluttering in fine mist
Wanting to taste you then
In soft soil,
Wet between rows of peas
and cantaloupe, tongue-watering,
A quickening pale shoot
Moving forward,
Hands, hair, hope merging
In reality,
Conflict is a sweet word,
Surging sap between winter and spring
Red and blue,
Pele and Hi`iaka raging in a blizzard of
Fire and snow
Dualities tangled together
In love for an eternity,
Tongues, veins, blood, skin
Moving into streams
Of rain,
Falling gently.
Karen K. L. Espaniola February 1, 2015