The Rain Fell

(written to the prompt “give colour to something colourless – emotions, senses, etc.)

The rain fell, 

it leached the colour from the sky 

Gauze upon gauze

Shifting the depth of the world

The distant hillsides now hardly visible

Once what was sharp and full of colour 

Now beyond my horizon 

Layers of damp grey air

Dripping between me and the end

The destination once trimmed with purple promise

Now become the space between my feet

The moment distilled 

Into each single movement 

Singular and repetitive 

Concentration honed inside my hood

My breath the extent of the world

Only here, only now

again and again

Till journeys done

Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash

Night Rain

The sound of rain falling in the deep night is a reminder that every now and then the world needs washing. The dirty streets littered with our selfish striving and strewn with the harshest words, dropped casually during the day, need to be cleaned. Hopes forcibly squeezed out and dreams stolen wait to be washed into drains, longing to be recycled and fed back in sleep’s stories. Prayers of the ones no longer here descend to rattle against our walls and fences, some seep through gaps and splits to water shoots of memory. Fall night rain fall.