A Fresh rain.
1.14.05

I need a fresh rain.
My languishing soul is summer blacktop hot,
and the suffocating heat is gasping haunting wisps
of fiery serpents off my smoldering heart.

I need a fresh rain,
To cleanse the dry riverbed mud from my long jaded dreams,
that mock my thirst like a barren womb torments a longing wife.

I need a fresh rain,
Because I have forgotten the pungent fragrances
That would resurrect me to the very moment
I was forgetting to live within.

I need a fresh rain,
To drown the primordial thirst;
That my personal mirages, have left me gasping with.

A rain to heal the deep fissures that have been scratched
into my raw aching throat. A baptism sent to extinguish
my smoldering ghenna, whose smoke is choking my desire to plead.

I need a fresh rain to wash away my nagging memories
So like soil after a vigorous plowing, my mind can start over again.

I need a fresh rain.
The kind of afternoon down pour that evokes
a wild idea that one should dance in the overflow.
To walk in places you don’t normally plod.
To abandon reason and leap with unfettered glee.

I need a fresh rain.
I need to remember what it feels like to soak my dignity.
To forget whom I have unfortunately become
and simply feel rain again on my young face.

I need a fresh rain that will draw my face heavenward.
That will provoke me to open my eyes
and gaze into the falling rejuvenation.

I need a fresh rain.