Saturday, April 27, 2013

Words – Waiting for the rains


My lovers
Unfaithful, maddening lovers
Taunting me with
How sweetly they lay, now lie with another
Weaving immortal magic

My gorgeous tyrants
Locking me up in a prison
That for some reason
I never want to leave

Doors.  Mirrors?
No, doors – I know they are doors
That I know open out
To wondrous things
(Because once they did)
But for which now, I can’t seem to find
The keys

 Once a surge. An ecstatic rush.
Now a trickle. A drought.
 I trace the parched cracks
And I wait.
It will rain.
(It must, must it not?)

Still. Crouching. Surly.
Taut with unleashed lightning.
Waiting for their master
“Not you,” they whisper cruelly.
“Not you. You are just a stable hand

I retreat
And wait
For the rains