momma, do you still love the rain?

The End Of Self Sabatoge — Haiku
January 11, 2010
for now
April 25, 2010

the rain journeys

from the brimming clouds above

water droplets forming on my nose,

damp, cold, muggy sweat

holes in my trendy boots,

icy toes, squishy wet socks

breathing deeply,

the freshest air, the coolest air,

so clean and calm

quiet sadness,

memories of walking with my momma in the forest,

just a baby girl,

bright yellow raincoat,

holding her rain-soaked hand,


the smell of old wood and green trees,

puddles of dirt and water


soaking wet and giggling,

a time of joy and innocence,

she said to me after a deep breath

“I love the rain”

constancy, the rain continues falling,

loyal, life-giving, soothing

as we grow older,

two women with the same blood, separate paradigms,

an inheritance of beauty and wonder,

a backdrop to the pain as life takes over.

shame and guilt,

we were all used up with nothing left

but the rain kept falling,

filling slowly,


the emptiness

forgiveness and release,

a reminder of renewed innocence,

looking up to the sky,

we have risen above

no more time for shame,

but a new sense of wonder

as we move down the road called Beauty

cloudy sunlight, unseen through the rain,

envelopes us

hope, hope has returned,

“momma, do you still love the rain?”