The Rain
The visionary rests upon his heartaches
For a self-forgotten man
Has a bed of salt-kissed scars entwined
With faded, distant sands.
Waves rushing all around him
Crash with eerie charms
They toss and turn and tumble
Bewitching his rough hands.
His feet are strong, yet heavy
As they long to reach the shore
If he stumbles,
If he falters, then
What is he breathing for?
He glances skyward from his promenade
To dark clouds filled with pain
In his heart
He knows that hope and love
Will drive him through the rain.
Labels: poetry