I record whatever I can when I have violent burst of feelings or revelations. I wrote this one night when it was storming out.
The rain pounds against the window.
It's force beats down.
The power and purity of it thrills and exhilerates me.
I rush to find pen and paper
To record these feelings that suddenly rage inside.
The individual droplets throw
themselves against the window.
The water beads and rolls
down the sheer surface.
The wind lulls
The beads form
And roll
More slowly.
Then, in little bursts,
Gradually throbbing stronger and stronger,
The wind catches her breath.
Once again she beats out
Her wild cadence
On that thin shield that shelters me
In my warm dry niche.
Now the excitment recedes within me
as I gaze, mezmerized,
Entranced by the perfect chaos.
I listen to the trickles and gurgles
Behind the undulating rhythms
Of the wind-driven rain.
They will continue long after the rain has stopped,
Eased it's hold,
Backed off for another day.
I think about going out in it.
Giving myself up to this force.
I make it as far as the door
And open it to the night.
The dark space invites me to step out
To feel what it really is.
The deep primal nature.
I reach out to it as it calls,
But the wind turns
And big droplets smack onto the page,
Blurring my words.
Quickly I tug at the door and it slams shut.
The thud jerks me out of my reverie,
Back to a world where wind is only so much moving air
And rain nothing more than condensed water vapour
The emotion is gone.
- Debs
The rain pounds against the window.
It's force beats down.
The power and purity of it thrills and exhilerates me.
I rush to find pen and paper
To record these feelings that suddenly rage inside.
The individual droplets throw
themselves against the window.
The water beads and rolls
down the sheer surface.
The wind lulls
The beads form
And roll
More slowly.
Then, in little bursts,
Gradually throbbing stronger and stronger,
The wind catches her breath.
Once again she beats out
Her wild cadence
On that thin shield that shelters me
In my warm dry niche.
Now the excitment recedes within me
as I gaze, mezmerized,
Entranced by the perfect chaos.
I listen to the trickles and gurgles
Behind the undulating rhythms
Of the wind-driven rain.
They will continue long after the rain has stopped,
Eased it's hold,
Backed off for another day.
I think about going out in it.
Giving myself up to this force.
I make it as far as the door
And open it to the night.
The dark space invites me to step out
To feel what it really is.
The deep primal nature.
I reach out to it as it calls,
But the wind turns
And big droplets smack onto the page,
Blurring my words.
Quickly I tug at the door and it slams shut.
The thud jerks me out of my reverie,
Back to a world where wind is only so much moving air
And rain nothing more than condensed water vapour
The emotion is gone.
- Debs
