Evening Rainsong

Alone again yet evening rain falls cooling fresh breeze voices anxious for everything, angry about nothing. Nothing to do about rain falling as sure as gravity of dripping issues landing in my lap, splattering naked children's sleepy heads and innocent soft shoulders. Into each life... Yes, yet eventide rains inside voices wet down dwindling life of tiring consciousness. If I could not read or write or speak who would I sing with in new found leisure? Scattered lyrical thoughts of painful rain for evening's loss of light, and dawn's dew drop evaporations raising praise for might of rain rising up yet again to grace some other's night. We each sing with rain dying alone, a humanic nature feeling trapped alien emigrant returning home to Earth where all creations fail and fall to rise again singing through new voices and hues, spectral rhythmic dances of songs and cries each our lived together owned, rising up new throated sounds disintegrated symphonies of song sung out toward tomorrow's rain clouds capturing moist radiant waves, wet sounds of song well-lived yet bound. I hear too complex songs for living, polyphonic evening rains falling down alone to rise again belonging songs evaporating praise, leaking radiance gathering together. Into and through each flowing melody of rebaptising life dirged this night alone yet heard as well-sung rain forever.