Raindrops fall from the rooftop
into the open arms of the grass
seeping into the heat of the earth
drenching it with coolness.
And each passing wind
carries a whisper of promise
that something will be better
after the sky’s grieving.
A breaking of my soul upon
the twilight of my darkest hour
and the mild shadow of yourself
enters my dream and i wonder…
are you the promise that comes
after the crying of heaven?
Originally uploaded by haydnseek
Much appreciated critique. 🙂
I am a self-centered brat thus the overuse of “my” “I” and “me”. hahaha.
Thanks for dropping by. I enjoyed reading your page too and will read some more as soon as the much needed weekend comes. 🙂
I read several of you poems and I like this one the best. It’s simple, about a common scene in nature, yet it paints a vivid picture in my mind. Every line is equally expressed without you being trite or insincere. My only critique is the overuse of the word “my” towards the end of your work.
A breaking of my soul upon
the twilight of my darkest hour
enters my dream and i wonder…
Great work and I look forward to more
Dan