Skip to content

CCCLXII

May 8, 2014

The world is different when it rains.
No longer does the earth restrict
the lights: they dive beneath the streets
and shine in planes beyond my reach.
The sounds are new, the air is fresh,
the colours richer when it rains.

The world is different when it rains.
Around me rings a constant song,
a chorus sprung from clouds above
falls silent when the sunlight comes.
The air is fresh, the colours rich,
the lights shine onwards when it rains.

The world is different when it rains.
All dust and fumes are banished by
a cleansing sheet, a washing pure
that frees the scents of breathing earth.
The colours rich, the lights shine on,
the clouds are singing when it rains.

The world is different when it rains.
All colours spring to life again,
the water saturating them,
redressing what the sun has dried.
The lights shine on, the sounds are new,
the air is fresher when it rains.

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: