Poetry
Letters in the Rain
(from Our Dreams...an Endless Summer)
-August 4, 2016
My words bleed in the summer rain.
The ink becomes a liquid once more
and fades from letters of an alphabet
into plashes of a language that I don’t know.
They’re no longer words,
but pure forms of emotions like thunder
grieving in the evening skies. The lightning sparks
and the ground shakes, the words are lost
and my pulse rose to a new ascent.
Muted,
my eyes widened in a flash.
The ink flows down the page,
dripping calligraphy from a fallen quill,
a plucked feather that’s been missing.
The air blows beneath me, but these wings
are too heavy as they soak,
bleeding lullabies,
transmuting words and syllables
to just sounds,
la-di-las of a language I once spoke,
dripping down—now descending
like soft rain. Smearing words into splotches
of beautiful colors—their meanings
flowing with—one another.