Those years made me a destitute child
I swam across the swamps and ran through the wild
the grass, everywhere I slept, went dry and dead
fields in the vicinity yielded no bread
Thirst in my throat squeezed up my guts
my back was scarred and feet had cuts
I looked to the heavens and prayed for the rain
while my spirit yearned for you in tenacious pain
It gets so lonely here
the moonlight and roses
violins and candles
are nothing but gone
Yet, memories of you
do linger on.
I woke up when it began to happen....
a distant thunder lit up the desert of desolation
the stench of mud filled the bowels of isolation
Here it is.....
now, the flowers will bloom back
and the birds will return to their rack.
Seasons, that are gone, will be again made
the tears of tribulation will soon fade
Here it is.....far away in exile,
I was waiting for the rain all my life
but when it came,
you were not there.
I swam across the swamps and ran through the wild
the grass, everywhere I slept, went dry and dead
fields in the vicinity yielded no bread
Thirst in my throat squeezed up my guts
my back was scarred and feet had cuts
I looked to the heavens and prayed for the rain
while my spirit yearned for you in tenacious pain
It gets so lonely here
the moonlight and roses
violins and candles
are nothing but gone
Yet, memories of you
do linger on.
I woke up when it began to happen....
a distant thunder lit up the desert of desolation
the stench of mud filled the bowels of isolation
Here it is.....
now, the flowers will bloom back
and the birds will return to their rack.
Seasons, that are gone, will be again made
the tears of tribulation will soon fade
Here it is.....far away in exile,
I was waiting for the rain all my life
but when it came,
you were not there.
4 comments:
Rain... So vivid the scene, felt I was there ... the mud, browns, creams, tans, yet the bursting color grasping. I felt three issues in my own ideal of this situation... you as a child, the colors, then you as a man.
What if one wins the whole world, and have none of his own to share it? What good is good fortune, when attained too late? Remember those who are dear to you, not only when things are going wrong; but also when they are going right. This poem is profound in its expression of gratitude.
this takes me back to the days of my first love. kewl!
apart from being hurt you have to have a feeling heart to think like this and then talent to put it all in words
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