The rain fell hard
upon a pile of dirt and clay.
The rain fell hard
and water flowed as if to say
we cannot choose to stay this way.
and spread amongst our lives today
the rain fell hard.
In puddles, brown –
reflections of the sky retold
in puddles, brown
these ruptured teardrops sparkle bold
wrenched from the clouds, water cajoled,
so unlike the desolate loll
in puddles, brown.
When flowers bloom,
opening up in fragrant notes.
When flowers bloom,
and singing out from amber throats,
look to the azure sky that dotes,
waiting on a quickening dose
when flowers bloom.