rain

when the things you feel are
so right
so atypical
and you know you are at peace
step into it.

when the people seem so full
and angry all the time
so very much unrest
step into it.

when your fear grabs your throat
you can't shake it with your
might
step into it.

for these things are all
temporal and the goodness shall not last
nor the darkness and the shadows
step into it.
rain beats a new drum, an old drum.  one that will not end
rain
rain
on this dry soul.

if i could build a wall

it would implode upon itself
so
slowly
moss would start to grow
and flowers would take root
springing up here and there
and every neglected place.
in the wall's stead would rest
a garden so unimaginably quaint and flourishing
even i wouldn't recognize it.

the wall would be broken and left to surprise and delight would be nothing
but beauty.



as i break down my wall
this moss creeps in.
and it is lovely.