When it rains

When it rains we run to the window;

it’s instinctual.

We run to the window as if

our bodies recognise the desperate humbling we need and ship off our

flawed beings to the window;

a type of rehab for the weary.

And we don’t know where to look,

up at the sky, at the ground? Even

to the neighbours for desperate human sanctuary.

And so we watch it all, intently, until

our bodies are recharged and spirited

spirited because we recognise a greater force than mere human control

and we’re comforted by the realisation that

we exaggerate human power too greatly

and deem the elements of the world too weakly-

So when it rains, we run to the window

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3 thoughts on “When it rains

  1. Dear poet ,
    I feel absolutely overwhelmed and count myself lucky to have a peek within your beautiful mind through your beautiful poetry . You do have a unique beautiful way of viewing the world. I’m glad to have stumbled across your blog , hope you have a great day ahead . Tight hugs to you because why not ? xoxo

    Like

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