Time falls in place on my windowsill,

As droplets of gems fall.

They are too soon to regret,

Swishing gently through fresh leaves,

Drifting through a misty night.

Colors and words flood into my soul

As water floods the lonely streets,

Empty with a sudden orb of fire,

Perhaps from a passerby’s lantern.

But as I stroll on and on,

One splashes on me,

Then another.

I look up into the infinite sky,

Wondering why the sky and rain

Looked so warped.

They were warped into feelings and thoughts,

And peoples’ uncertainty.

I stood there until water seeped through my bones,

Coldness took my heart,

Standing in the rain until

I could bare no longer the misgivings

That were dropped through the gentle palms of a cloud,

So I gave each a question.

And I walked on.

As I finished my stroll,

The night was so dark it had no sky

Few raindrops were seen,

Though more were heard.

I sat on my bed, staring out the glass

That separated me from those questions,

And I was filled with doubt.

Now, years later, each one holds a question,

A question to be pondered,

Thought out about.

They are to be answered throughout the evening,

Not the day or night,

Not in seconds or minutes,

But in answers,

And I listen.