When I watch water falling in the spring
Like tears soaking into a bed of earth,
I cease to remember the joy it brings
To observe nature's miraculous births;
When stormy tantrums envelop the sky
And lightning gives temporal webs of light
As cacophonous thunder roars nearby,
Small children cling to their mothers in fright:
At last, behold the light after the storm
As dreary clouds reveal glitter within
Air swirls, thick and sweet, in purest form,
And sun's tender rays caresses the earth's skin;
Then run and skip across the muddy plain
Live like a child delighted by the rain.
Since writing fiction is my work, poetry is now my escape. Authors, do you turn to poetry, short stories, or articles as an "escape" from writing novels...or is it just me?
If you enjoy poetry, then visit my blog. I'm posting poetry and giving away two copies of my book this month. :)