Something about the Rain
Agua del cielo, the Spanish might say;from the sky or from heaven, I pray?
Contemplating its rhythms and its rigor
its tempo, its tones, its vigor,
I sit enchanted at my window
in silence observing the wind blow
its aqueous compañero against the walls,
splattering, catapulting the angry squalls.
yet somehow it calms the tempest in my soul
reducing the pieces from halves to whole.
''Only the clouds expelling their burden,'' you complain.
I know there's much more to sing about the rain.
Poetry by William Hughes
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Written on 2025-12-27 at 18:34
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