“Raindrops”

I sit in the darkness of my room, listening to the rain,
As it falls outside, softly, upon my window pane.
The rain is early; I wasn’t expecting it until tomorrow.
However, its arrival dost not cause me sorrow.
In fact, I welcome its arrival,
Because it heralds my survival,
Due to a degree.
The rain falls upon the
Grass, upon which the animals feed;
The rain gives the plant seed,
Birthing the plants to fruition
In their never ending mission
To provide nourishment to beasts of the field,
Who are later slaughtered and killed
To feed my gullet and satisfy my pallet,
Which is prone to exquisite tastes. It
Is no longer raining; I no longer hear
Its drops on the window pane near
Me on the other side of the window.
Where did it go?
The rain. Where does it sleep?
Where do the clouds keep
It when they need it no longer?
Where goes the rain when the stronger
The earth
Which gave us birth
Is no longer in danger of losing its life
To an amateur surgeon’s knife?
Do you think
The clouds drink
The rain within,
And it is the waste that falls on men?
Do you think that what is not
Needed is brought
Into its kitchen or store,
To use when needed it is once more?
Who knows
Where it goes,
And does it really matter
When the storm clouds scatter,
And the moon
Soon appears in the sky?
Where do the clouds go to die,
Or do they live forever,
Moving constantly in an endless endeavor,
Constantly reincarnated throughout the world
Shifting always upon Atlas’s uncurled
Shoulders
Boulders
In the sky so high up there,
High up in the atmosphere?
Raindrops falling down
On the ground
In the future now the past.
The rain shall come again, but shall never last.
As with close friends, the rain shall come
Once more, playing de dum de dum
Upon my window pane, singing sweet to
Me a lullaby, filled with notes too
Beautiful to be recorded in a music sheet.
As with life I leave this work incomplete.

Finis.
-11/17/13