Lewis Raynes Poet Quatrain

Notes About The Poem

Your Brain Is 75 Percent Water

It rains in ratio, through the black broken screen, 
It rains a steady downpour, 
And these infinite drops call me to them, 
They draw me out the back door,

To whooshes of pink and whispering white, 
From the oxford blue eyes of the sky,
Staring to me, and I, alone, staring to them, 
Then I simply begin asking them: Why?

Why does the white moon hide in the black, 
Behind the clouds in the night,
Why does the rain melt into my spark, 
Why does the rain vanish from sight,

Becoming my spirit, the heart of my soul, 
Becoming everything I’ve ever known,
Why do you shower your love as a rain, 
Making all life on earth your home?

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Line Gauthier May 13, 2019 at 7:56 AM Lovely poem, Lewis.

Caren Krutsinger March 14, 2018 at 3:13 AM The questions remind me so much of my daughter who at four seemed like a theologian. And I can see that back door. Great imagery for me, Lewis. Lewis Raynes March 18, 2018 at 11:34 PM Thank you Caren, ur daughter is a deep thinker... cool

Lunita Blanca March 13, 2018 at 10:58 PM My gosh Lewis, such questions that only nature can answer. Great prose. Lewis Raynes March 18, 2018 at 11:33 PM Thank you Carlos, yep, too many questions left up to nature :)