Bookraft

Summer Pregnant Shower

Seeing the rains -
Heavy humid, Dada-darkened clouds,
Nimbi labouring across the sky
And then a signal, a single thunder quaver
And mist and fog materialize
Like steam in reverse they coalesce
Merging into airborne spitz and sprinkles
Like a point of view merging into popular agreement
Spatter soft streams dance, twist and un-entwine
Catching now ear and eye views that become
A Bolero of leaves and grass and limbs and pavement
Each adding its own flexing and rhythms playing
Mix mingling with Gulf of Mexico mirages,
Foreign climes deposited our rural way
It is almost unnatural ways n' waves hovering over us.

Hearing the rains -
It was hardly a tinny drum roll
And then laden, pregnant, poised
Its the hairbrush on the drumhead
The tingling thought at dawn or respite
The almost taste of labor and leaves lightwater cooled
The riff of distant eavestrough over-flowing
Sploosh splashing as gentle becomes ever insistent
And every box and air chamber percolates staccato
While leaves, boughs, and petals bow ever again and again
Just near-mute background singers
As heaven's tempo clish-clashes as rising cymbals
Drowning throughout every nook and refuge
Transforming the least opening into a waterfall symphony
Adding splatter and dew humidity direct
Sending shiver thoughts to echo lightning percussions.

Feeling the rain -
The burden of two days and nights laden
Awaiting release, now gushing in grays
Suffusing the countryside and Warkworth Long Lunch
With the aura of more waiting to be said
A story of release, of imminent denouement
Of having said ones piece with pristine purity
And then to stream, begin to evaporate and leech
Into thousands upon thousands of choral chords
Permeating and, with a touch of humidity, becoming life's stream.

(c)JBSurveyer 2006