Rain Dance

I’m sitting here listening to the rain
pitter patter outside my window
and I can’t help but think of you
– of lost moments, fleeting seconds
as we spend this precious time
apart – fragments of life,… gone forever.
I can’t help but wonder what it
would be like – to hold you in my arms
to sooth your troubled hair and
trace the lines that worry your
face, until they faded – like the
drops as they soak into the fresh earth.
I find my mind daring to travel
in lands never explored, where proud
feet have yet to tread – and I
hold your hand as we lead one
another cautiously along.
I can taste your light touch –
I can feel your breath as it
dances on my flesh – stirring warm
emotions with gilded secrecy.
Can you hear my call?
Do we dance to the same song?
Am I but a delusional child
in search of the ideal sunrise?
– hoping for a different tomorrow…?
Yes, perhaps, my wishes are remedies
that cannot heal,… a stream
without water. Yet, I find the cup
at its fullest – nearly spilling over –
and balanced so desperately on the
point of a needle… eager to lose
playful drops to the dusty floor –
seemingly so far below. Do you know
this song? Can you sing this tune?
Knotted thoughts twist mazes deep
within me, shaking my resolve and
good patience – leaving me damp and
cold, shivering in the dark of my mind.
I’m sitting here listening to the rain
pitter patter outside my window
and I wonder if you hear it too.

Eric W Hinton
4/10/1992

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Poetry and writings