New Eyes
Before the rain came,
I did not understand the words.
They were simply beauty to me
in a foreign language
in a tempo perfect
that fit my mood.
Rich and pretty ... and
a bit oblique.
But the seed fell deeply
when I looked away.
Sweet siren music I heard in ocean
covered streams ... and
salt water flowers.
I knew angels in waking sleep
and watched my mind
tell me lies.
I turned up the silence and grew still.
Clarity sparkled in smog and mud puddles
and then I understood. the words.
and the rain.
stinging cold ... and
purifying.
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