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Raindrops falling in late spring's humid heat from a darkened sky form a silhouette deep as the deep grey clouds of my hope, as I wait wondering what depth these cool drops will soak in earth's thirsty core, to my core also; water's light speckled sound feels unceasingly gentle on skin or ground, how deep will it enter into me? Evening, sometimes quiet whispers of a secret self call from below the soil, hoping the rain will awaken a longburied question from that one exigent curiosity, a multitude of answers each one a colour, a note, to form one small integral part of me |