13 Ways of Looking

September 1, 2007
By Casandra Boylan, Bethlehem, PA

13 Ways of Looking at the Rain Summer drought. Stifling heat. The welcome pitter patter of water Hitting the pavement Warm, cool drops that stream down my face When I throw my head back Winter chill. Biting cold. The beginnings of A shower is unwanted and unneeded To make my day more miserable, More biting cold it already is. To be clean To be fresh To wash away ugliness Rain is natures own shower No plumbing needed The intricate dance steps Of the Rainmaker are beauty In themselves, To be moved by something so pure, Such a simple need Such a simple plea Drip-drop, Plip-Plop Slip in the puddle Fall to the ground and scrape both my knees I am evenly dripping from head to foot My new rubber rain boots are uncomfortable and too big Im having the time of my life Cicadas chirrup Crickets sing Fireflies light up the sky Rain is only the accompaniment To the summer night symphony A liquid caress runs down my face, Camouflaging the tear stains, Dissolving the bittersweet saltiness, Until I can say that its only the rain. The world is muddy. The sparse grass is dewy. A gray mist coats the air The rain has made for an ugly landscape Yet people fall to their knees in thanks. The dry season is over Every plant and animal stretches its limbs waiting Waiting, waiting, an almost unconscious yearning Its not a long wait The world moves on Poets say the rain are tears of heaven Today, this day, this rainy day thats normal and average for everyone else I join them In a lament without words As my grandmothers casket is lowered down The moist air, the saturated earth, Everything is clogged down in water And water runs down the streets From frozen wafting silence to noisy Never-ending dripping The aggravating tempo isnt so bad When I see the first green sapling The tempo sounds around the world. It pings on tin roofs in African villages. It makes streaks on the Manhattan skyscrapers. It floods the Ganges River in India. The universal life force, The universal tempo. Is it possible? Something so small, Something so simple, As the rain Can be an inspiration, Of hope, of song, of dance, of happiness? Yes.

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