POEM: The Ways That Rain Dances

There are ways that rain dances on solid roofs and thick plastered ceilings
That remind me of a metronome
Marking gain and loss in quarter, half and full note rhythms.

There are ways that rain dances like thoughtless fingers rolling
On the desktop keeping time to secrets that swarm my head like honey bees.
The ones I have forgotten, that wake me from a solid sleep,
The ones I hold in my hollow as regret.

There are ways that rain dances that suggests how well it knows
The obscured parts of me, the most remote sorrow of me.

The rain comes to me like spring with barrels of expectation.
I understand its grayness, I understand its muted light
How it needs to say nothing at all to be heard,
How it moves through me defying gravity like xylem
From my feet to my head in all its wanton lust for lazy stillness.
It is in this lust for stillness that I am just a little more made whole.