Rain
Soft rain
Misting
Nourishing a parched soul
I open my arms to heaven
Welcoming
Welcoming such a tender rain
Hard rain
Falling
Never quite quenching
I bare my shivering skin
Needing
Needing more to ease the pain
Torrents
Pouring
A mighty fearsome force
Flooding all my senses
Drowning
Drowning in my desperation
posted by Theresa @ 3/17/2006 10:47:00 PM
10 Comments:
"It'll wash you away, but it aint never enough...."
~Steve Earl
It starts with 1 ink drop
and ends with floodgates of emotion
flooding the page.
and nice new profile pic Theresa,
so lovely.
Strange and wondrous the way one Element contains all the beauty, all the pain, all the love and all the sorrow of our existence. If you could go inside a raindrop, would it look any different than a teardrop?
Hmmm... an Orgasm at its finest. Metaphorically amazing.
Nice poem. I loved the Mojave story too. :-) Cheers Boobetta!
word ver: lzvbvds
Lezzie BVDs?
Andy.
you are OUT OF CONTROL!
I had no idea this poem was about crying. It so happens I was crying while I was writing it. Funny how things work out sometimes.
orgasm? ... wasn't having an orgasm while I was writing it.
I write like that, too. Other people tell me what I write about.
Theresa,
How come your soul feels that parched? So dry that even a heavy rain that pulsates your body cannot be enough to revive it? Why do you need a flood, a torrent - something not only falling from the sky, but sweeping you up, off the ground - in order for your feelings to flow?
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