Falling as Rain
steve klepetar
I am trying to penetrate clouds that fog my sight.
Lowering, they have turned gray, then black
and in my lungs I feel the storm coming on.
What would it be like to fall as rain,
to penetrate the mysteries of sky?
Would my body live as a droplet hurtling to earth
or as a blinding sheet? Would I hear wind
singing its song of fallen trees? Would I know
the language of vapor, its many terms for merging
and tearing apart? How would I sing without lips
and teeth, where would I direct my gaze?
If I fell in the ocean, would my blood turn to salt,
would I float on the surface or sink in churning waves?
And could I rise, dragged back to the sky when sun,
that furnace fed by another gas, burned away my liquid soul?
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