Here's a poem about the day the rains came.Some lines to detail the wet celebrations afterwards.Some thoughts about what people can do.But will the rain wash away my tears?
Yours Sincerely, POSOWOCO
Anyone want to watch the land through the rain on a cold hill?
Or read a poem for the isolation and viewing of distant landscape
Do you need to understand our valleys and rains will be here for as long as we may be?
Are you seeking outside influences to balance your nearest thoughts?
Do you seek somewhere that's quiet and isolated?
Day of Rains
Once the rain has stopped
The breeze has blown and gone
With sand between our toes
And looking at the sea
Watching, watching the farness
Behind us the clouds retreat
The afternoon climbs over the day
In this shelter warm.
Blow over the hills away from here
Say something, talk and fade
As thought you were never here
After the walk and distant breath
The shorelines, sea shell all wet
And the calm can be heard above them
With its magic way of mood
The pounding falling feelings that stay.
Sounds so sliding, finding
Feel the forceful water towering
Sea the sudden sealant flowering
Twisting turning voices heard
Climbing into my heart with the day
Fixed in the mind's eye
We sit and speak of every way and walk
The very dream from the start.
Underneath the trees a path has narrowed
And comes to edge near the water
Four times, five times, six times
I counted the waters retreat
At every lap you took a tighter grip
A nearer moving step
A single solitary silent move again
And came in closer breathing distance.
Looking back towards the village
And of the pond and the rains
I thought of singing in time with the sight
And was ready to step out with my mouth
And single out the special silence lying
With the sleeping beauty underfoot
That had walked on velvet to shake my whole
Whilst we walk and walk with heavens above.
22nd March 1982
I wrote this many years when I used to combine a lack of love with bad weather.
That day it had rained and my heart longed for someone special.
No matter what the rain and weather would do and how the villages would live.
My heart would still be there for the hook of love.
When it comes, it comes.
The day of rains turns into days.
We sit there by some trees on a hill overlooking the valley.
We see the river come and go and watch the tiny cars below us.
As a result we feel at one with everything.
We feel it all in every moment and slice of time.
The wind is getting up and we sort of know it's time to leave but this moment is forever.
We take the winding path back to the river and then into the village to depart.