There was a time,
a time of innocence, perhaps,
perhaps not,
a time of unambiguous preference certainly:
rain, rain, go away,
go away, go away.
A time without question
without answer, without explanation;
no why, no where,
no absorption of texture and text,
and nothing of silence and absence,
just a simple line: go away.
It took time, yes,
but there was a showering in that passing,
and inconvenience slipped to benevolence,
falling raindrop clothed as arrow,
rain as the uniting of sky and earth,
descent of cloud
and subsequent carving of signature
as rivulet blossoming into river,
a soft turning:
the fear of elemental overload
bending into awe at celestial union.
A growing up, yes,
a recovery too,
the reclaimed territory
of paper boats, overflowing drains,
baths under a broken pipe,
the joy of 'uncopability'
and the bliss of comprehension,
knowing after so many centuries
that there was no going away,
but only a coming back,
a gathering of dreams
and in some small way,
a collapsing of certain hearts
that never understood 'going away'
and never really will.
a time of innocence, perhaps,
perhaps not,
a time of unambiguous preference certainly:
rain, rain, go away,
go away, go away.
A time without question
without answer, without explanation;
no why, no where,
no absorption of texture and text,
and nothing of silence and absence,
just a simple line: go away.
It took time, yes,
but there was a showering in that passing,
and inconvenience slipped to benevolence,
falling raindrop clothed as arrow,
rain as the uniting of sky and earth,
descent of cloud
and subsequent carving of signature
as rivulet blossoming into river,
a soft turning:
the fear of elemental overload
bending into awe at celestial union.
A growing up, yes,
a recovery too,
the reclaimed territory
of paper boats, overflowing drains,
baths under a broken pipe,
the joy of 'uncopability'
and the bliss of comprehension,
knowing after so many centuries
that there was no going away,
but only a coming back,
a gathering of dreams
and in some small way,
a collapsing of certain hearts
that never understood 'going away'
and never really will.
[From my collection 'Threads', shortlisted for the Gratiaen Award 2007]
you should consider publishing your work.. it is a waste otherwise :)
ReplyDeleteI post them on fb (malinda words) now and then. you can email me and I will send you the lot.
ReplyDeleteMalinda
Yes you are right .....
ReplyDelete‘The war is over’ … there was a time that we had to reclaim our territory,
Many of us experienced the overflowing drains ....
Many bath under the broken pipes ....
We used to call some of our territories ‘watte’
These things have changed now ..... people have started moving in to new ‘housing schemes’ ..
Time has come for all of us to 'SMILE'....
So … we need ‘RAIN’ to prosper our land, to fill our hearts and hearths with ‘happiness’ and 'love’
We will always say ..... 'rain.. rain … don’t go away …