This Rain Colder Than Snow
This rain colder than snow beats
on the lonely poet's heart sadder than
a hummingbird deserted by all;
are his tears less human, less tender
than anyone imprisoned by loneliness?
Hasn't he loved enough, hasn't he consoled
souls in times of solitude, where's his reward?
Heaven was above his head shielding him, and Hell
in front of him tempting his thoughts to steadily err,
guess who won and how relieved he was
not to have easily fallen into sin!
This rain colder than snow
shows no empathy, only sorrow;
and staring at the pitiful hummingbird,
my flesh is being pierced by a sword,
and though I don't bleed,
my feeling is profoundly hollow
when it should be filled with hope...
that hope more powerful and more solid
when a promise is spoken and delivered,
never groping for an answer
or hanging on a thin rope
and be frightened by fear!
This rain colder than snow
freezes up the euphony of words
pleasing to ears longing for sweet sounds
that are often heard on idyllic days
with harmonious melodies and vibrant colors;
shouldn't I exchange these raindrops,
turning into ice crystals, for a rainbow...
for a spring that sets the evening horizon aglow?
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2021
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