On days like these
The rain just knows when to fall
The cadence; the drizzle
The unhurried hush
In my heart
An age-old wound leaks
A trickle of wistful despair
On days like these
I sit by the window pane
And commune silently with nature
In the aftermath of a tearing —
Of the heart or of the heavens
The seams come apart
The poison overflows
Dark clouds gather
Ominous; heavy; unmoving
Yet I choose to take comfort
That when the last squeeze of tears fall
The sun will shine anew.
