Kissed By Raindrops ...

This poem was written many decades ago, but I have just recently been able revisit my words of so very long ago ... found them in an old brown box I'd been carrying around from place to place --with each move-- but somehow I never seemed to have the time (courage?) to open the box.   Finally strong enough to share them here with you now …

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“Kissed By Raindrops”

Outside Pouring Rain,
Angels' tears
Trickle down
To puddles …
Ripples echo
Dripping drops’
Sweet refrain.
Inside a storm begins
Its raging:
Tears in me
Welling up,
Bleeding pain,
Suppressing
Echoes that remain.
Walls are closing
In …
Have to run …
Fast and far.
Where doesn’t really matter.
Just run to where
You can’t follow me.
Barefoot running,
No one’s coming:
Running hard,
Right on through
The pounding pain …
Run, run, run till I can’t
Run no more.
Collapsing into
Tear-soaked puddle,
Angels' tears …
They draw me close
And hold me dear.
Touch me ever-so
Tenderly where fear resides.
Their faith abides,
Wash away the pain.
With Angel kisses renewing,
My inner storm subsides
... And on my way
Back home
I find myself, somehow,
Dancing softly in the gentle rain.

@Copyrighted Poem: Isabelle Black Smith, October 2012. All Rights Reserved.

[Needed some typing translation ... My brain often flies faster than my fingers can keep up with.  I read these words here again and I wonder how much my writing has changed since then?  How much have I changed since then?  How long will I leave this up here?

There is an unwritten line at the end ... "Hopeful that one day I'll find my voice to sing again."   A decade++ later, I still haven't found that voice, my voice to sing again, but I'm still hopeful ...  ]



... Early A.M.:  Still awake.  Bad headache.  Listening to music, fiddling around with words off & on.  Came up with this to "compare" to my write above, from younger days ...

“Raindrops”

Clearing Angels’ sublime vision.
Cascade of tear-dropped
Viscous tension …
Fluid encapsulated,
Heaven’s knowing
transcends perfection.
Silent prayers raining down.
Frequency and intensity varying,
Echoing pitter-patter marrying:
Pouring forth to renew,
Heaven’s subtle reminder that
All that is heard need not be spoken.
 

@Copyrighted Poem: Isabelle Black Smith, November 2012. All Rights Reserved.