A
Cistern Full of Rain
Rain
is the color of this well of souls
who
speak my words, she cries
and
lays her tears where my shoulder would be
had
I known I could be needed...
Let
me try again.
Rain
has no color, and love is a
well
of souls who cry for mercy
in
dark water, in hopeless night, in
desperate
wonder at the way it cuts
my
heart, the way my blood is fire
at
your sound, the sudden song of you,
he
whispered, knowing the risk was
great
and mercy is a fish that
swims
upstream...
Let
me try once more.
Rain
is color -- you've seen it
flower,
I know, the petals falling
gentle
on the sidewalk,
breaking
into shards.
My
love is rain: I let it fall, shatter.
I
was born without eyes, to feel my way
along
the walls, sit in darkness, wait alone.
You've
seen me there, heard me,
a
wishful sound, a penny thrown into
a
well of souls, a cistern full of rain.
