As Rain Falls

As rain falls dripping chapters
I read between descending spheres
Reflections captured in glass globes
Past fortunes interpreted as dreams

As dreams fall in misty memories
Caught in wandering wistful eyes
Clouded by what could have been 
Flooded by lost pasts, I cry

As tears overflow heart’s garden
Sky and salty brine combined
Long dormant buried wishes
Sprout forth in fertile soil’s palm

 

~ Emily C.

6.15.17

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I Cried Rain

the rain cried for me…

this face as dry as an abandoned desert well

kept it all in for too long

like a festering wound

bound to kill from the inside out

the rain cried for me

as I stood there in soaked skin

numb, I spin

in the rain

it sobbed,

overflowing all of my wells

until I couldn’t hide it anymore

memories like pennies floated up and out

resurfacing in the face of doubt

all that was tossed to the dark pit

saw light again in the rain

in the rain, in the rain

as it poured in torrential tears

all of my deepest fears

watered back to life

now free to float away

as sun will shine

to break new day

the rain cried for me

 

and I cried rain

 

 

~ Emily C.

4.19.17

Petrichor

I want to be the woman who wakes up in your bed… 

somewhere in Italia, on an autumn day. 

The rain will have fallen; just enough to bring the petrichor out after a long dry summer, the microscopic atoms of ancient clay carried in the drops that burst fragrance through a cracked villa window. It overlooks the vineyard we would tend to, the soil we would nurture.  

There, the grapes ripen like our love; hung out to dry and tangled together on the vine, sweetened by time in the unforgiving sun – our rebellion.

It would be linens and warm skin, together. It would be creaking wood in the wind, and uncomplicated life. Rolling hills carry my voice, calling your name without hesitating, because you are my native language, the only one I’ve ever spoken fluently. Unlike Italian. You teach me that.

You teach me that with every “Buongiorno, amore mio.”  I drink it like caffe’ latte in small sips, swirled.  My eagerness would only increase your determination and eventually, it will stick. I would say, “Grazie mille, amore mio.”  One day it will be habit.

Conversation is my foreplay. We would talk sometimes passionately, sometimes softly, sometimes only with our eyes. You would speak to me your philosophy, I will challenge you with mine. 

Our sex would stop time.

The seasons would turn, the wine would mature as sunsets coursed over our union in time lapsed waves until we paused to see butterflies mating on a grape leaf.

Lips whisper lines of poetry, drawing me deeper until drunk on your soul.  

I can see you there now, alone, without me. My journey has already begun, first in thought. Next in reality.

You would wait. You would wait without stopping. 

And when you saw me, finally,

you would know.

 

~ Em C.

2.19.17

****

In the mood for some creative writing/prose.

Sea Spray

the wind blew rain on the dining room windows
like sea spray, this house rocking in the surf
half-lit flicker of a lamp crackles on the table
columns of wax wait for matches to flirt

quill in the ink well stalls for more time
wandering ponderings keep knocking
inside the captain’s waterlogged mind
searching on the map for x-marks-the-spot

no stars for navigation, blackened parchment sky
no rod for divination, the metal tip takes its sip
the bow lifts and paper soaks in salty brine
the wayfarer rocked seasick, eyes raining drips

quicksand waves offer no ghosts from the locker
only sucking in the next victim for its volume
read by legions of travelers ahead to follow
words scrawled on canvas for stargazing crews

~ EC

1.18.17

You Stood There

you stood there in the pouring rain, cupping your hands as if collecting stardust

stopped in my tracks, I swore I saw shooting stars dancing in your palms

not wanting to disturb you, as the world swirled around in chaos, you, a pillar

of calm serenity, your gaze upward and unfazed, soaking to the bone, smiling,

time stopped — my eyes took a picture and framed you with gilded memory

to be retrieved some future rainy day when the only thing felt is gloom

your inner light captured amidst pelting spheres, tears dropped from the sky

reflecting only the truth of your beauty, magnifying the darkness

in such a way, even it

had to smile

~ EC

1.17.17