Rain
World don’t cry for me,
I’m afraid your tears should be wasted.
I can see them running away,
down the drab drains deep under the
grimy ground where they shall surely be forgotten,
and echo their drips in the underground tubes with furtive force,
where their faceless fantasy
is far-fetched…
Your anger rains from high in the heavens, tumbles with such turbulent force, rattling windows and doors in fury
-for they are all shut up in their houses-
and ricochet rebelliously with the ceaseless dark drumming and thunder with passion…
But don’t cry for me,
I’m afraid no one would answer your cry of suffering.
Go to where the world is dry,
Where people suffer and die.
Go show them your caring compassion,
For though they won’t dance for you here,
When they shut themselves in and never shed a tear,
Where it’s dry and drought, they’d dance dances for you, cry, laugh…
Because you’re needed.
Don’t cry for me world,
For I should not cry.
Let us hope the next tears shed will be of happiness.
©
HEATHER GRAY 1998