Experience of a Flood

Rain Icey teardrops Dripping slowly down the panes Like a bitter honey As though my brick home is suddenly flooded with bittersweet memories Death The reaper Who shines in the midnight hour like an eroding candle Finally shared with me the news As he took some of my suitcases with him With no farewell He climbed aboard his melancholy chariot “A stage of life,” he said And took off, kicking dust across streets And onto my lonely home’s panes. I lay here on the pane Watching the tears roll down the panes The storm is battering my home, my dam Attempting with brute force To invade me To soak me wet and cold I am not home I am in a prison identical in appearance to my home Locking myself within while I watch the hurricane wage its war Suddenly The dam erupts The narrow streets welcome a flood of dark, obnoxious waters My prison is taken, as though a boat I float upon the treacherous waters But buoyancy is temporary I sink The barring windows crack one by one I grow nervous and restless Without warning the bricks exploded And I am embraced by warm water and soft, white foam My eyes close My tender cheeks are no longer dry I am entirely drenched and encapsulated From my lungs to the heart and soul A hand grasps mine Finally the sun shines Clouds have partially blocked my view, but the sun does shine Like gold Beautiful gold And the water I float softly on evaporates I clench the hand harder The wind wipes my tears Nature of life, who I so despised, who so betrayed me Now comforts me with the gifts and of mankind To each yin a yang, I know. Someday when yang floods my home I shall be strong enough to let go