Sun is cold and Rain is hard

Someone told me long ago, there’s a calm before the storm,
I know, it’s been comin’ for some time.

Try as he might, he could only hear the rumbling thunder
and not her incessant rambling
until she was gone and it was all too quiet

She wrapped around him like a vise
grasping desperately for purchase

When it’s over, so they say, it’ll rain a sunny day,
I know, shinin’ down like water.

He wondered at the empty hole in his heart
would it fill up if he fell in love again
or would it forever be a dried out useless muscle
He had wanted some quiet to sort through thoughts
and a soft place to rest his head
had not bargained for a virtuoso of chattering

She had envisioned their fairy tale
and was never convinced he wasn’t her prince

Yesterday, and days before, Sun is cold and rain is hard,
I know, been that way for all my time.

But the peace he sought eluded him
as he was haunted by her plaintive cries
her shrill screams as she fell away in a tragic arc
He still saw the blood on his hands months later
and wondered if he would love again
or if he was now tainted and cursed by her

She had not gone quietly
but in disbelief the end would be so tawdry

‘Til forever, on it goes, through the circle, fast and slow,
I know, it can’t stop, I wonder.

Had he dreamed his mind snapping or was that a wish
would she come back to talk some more
or did he face a quiet storm ahead alone

She would haunt his thoughts and make him long for
her softness and even her chatter which fell like rain

I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin’ down on a sunny day

clumsy

thoughts are coming slowly
there’s so much to say
it’s like skipping through syrup
getting tripped up by my own feet
falling over my tongue
no one wants to wait
to hear what finally comes out
they’re too busy laughing
at the spectacle I’ve made

Poryphria’s Season

 

She was fine with the solstice but the equinox got her every time.

He told her she was just the same as everyone else.
She thought that was not true all the time.
Someday she’d be someone’s The One and not a stand-in For Now.

She was an expert at transition
But could not abide consistency.
She didn’t see a calm pond but saw a stagnant cesspool.

She’d sing to the songs the breeze carried
He’d try to pin her like a moth to a board
When she really wanted the flame carried on the wires.

Had she really been told she could do anything
Or was that a daydream like the others?
What a lie if true, what a story if not.

There were constraints binding her to the Now but not her mind which delved into Then and Again.

For every change she built a pattern
For every room she’d create a space
In her vision he glowed like starlight
In her ears she sang for herself alone.

He thought he knew her seasons but she surprised him just the same.

spinning happily

she used to be golden
tresses blowing in the wind
as she spun happily amid the wildflowers
swirling dust forgiven on old roads
traveling from fields to forest
forgotten leaves making her a soft landing
crickets keeping her company at night
while she kept close thoughts of warmth and music
never a moment to lose
feeling whole in her favorite sweater
only needing words sung or spoken
to remember her stories

her dreams darkened as her eyes opened
blackened and broken hearts dampened her spirits
she learned that she was always alone
among pebbles and fireflies and men
herself but a wisp of a thought
her sweater became threadbare and eventually lost
she grew colder and older

she awoke one day feeling warmth from within
carried that feeling on new travels
until she came to where the field met the forest
closed her eyes
hugged herself in her new sweater
felt the breeze passing through trees
with a lighter step
she moved through the old path
remembering old words
weaving them with new songs
a touch of silver rather than gold
but spinning happily again

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