prelude

...among men 

you will sometimes find a lump of polished primal grief

or the lava of frozen rage from some old volcano.

Yes, that came from there. We used to be rich.

Rainer Maria Rilke

it might rain

i see the window and all that it contains

a great range of greys and people menaced by water particles

trapped above their heads like their lives

how do you start a day so ill-omened

if yesterday has taken you aside

to teach you that the heart cannot

show you 

will not show you the way

or find for you the small word of courage

a yes perhaps

will not put it on your tongue

and push your mouth into a smile

though you would have very much wished so

how do you go about a day so gravid of greys and people
carrying their private storms
their quiet diluvions 

how do you carry the burden of such void

around this city

i wish for the wind to lift me whirl me above it all 

and throw me back into your arms

i wish for your arms to be open and warm

for your heart to put a small word of forgiveness

or trust on the edge of your tongue

to forge your eyes into a beautiful yes

after all.