Rain dreams

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The wind dances with the rain, tracing murmurs in shallow undulations across the pool.
Blue oscillations move to the percussion of random roadside splashes, washboard slides on roof tiles, and swoosh of twisting leaves.

The murmur swoops and dives, turns and folds then scatters, changing speed and direction in a light and dark, pebbled, fluid motion on the edge of a thin waterfall…

From a lifetime or two ago, starlings fly and waltz across a field.
On the trail of those forgotten images, in a long retreat to the roost from sunset to nightfall,  swarms of blackbirds, in waves and  dashes, mostly silent, fly to safer destinations, their numbers unending.

Unbidden, the rain dream opens a window onto a dirty pink sky scored with power lines, the whistle of a commuter train and screeching metallic brakes… Is he on it? Or did he stay for one more drink in Grand Central Station?
Black shadows, dark thoughts, echoes of a time out of mind, creep in and encroach on the tap dance of happy drops plopping in crazy staccato moves…

Magic water needles sew buttons on clear blue water.
Bubbles bounce and hold their breath.
Dots and blue stars fall and wake up other dreams:
Thousands of “Look mommy! Look!”  jump in splashes and ripples colliding madly.
Laughter and giggles escape in a love song.

From the other bank, the steadfast Pelican watches the antics unperturbed.
This is paradise he says. Rain or shine, behind the clouds, the sky is always blue!
He grins at me from the edge. Should I try to glue your broken beak one more time, I ask.

Nah, he answers. I like this wizened look. It says I lived and put myself in harm’s way. I had adventures… I have more to say and do with a broken beak. What’s missing is not as important or beautiful as what is left.
The mimosa chortles but the peppertree shakes and rolls with unrestrained laughter…

It is raining today. The wind plays, paints pictures, sings and dances a soft shoe number on ripples, between dreams and raindrops.

 

Silent witness

 

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Life, Pandora's box and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

23 Responses to Rain dreams

  1. Katalina4 says:

    So gorgeous. Can’t add any more words for fear of taking some of the beauty away….

    Like

  2. makagutu says:

    Hello M.
    How nicely you paint with words.

    Like

  3. PapaBear says:

    Good morning, Emm
    You write of the rain, yet I look out the windows and only see the white of new fallen snow. Hhmmphh!!! So much for Spring! PERHAPS it will warm up by May.

    Like

    • emmylgant says:

      It’s coming Paul, keep your chin up… or tucked in behind your collar to keep warm!
      The sun isn’t showing up for long here and the Med isn’t in a playful mood.

      Like

  4. Randstein says:

    Beautiful rhapsody of sights and sounds teasing out memories and acceptance. It reminded me of my childhood at my grandmother’s house staring out of the window of her Florida home as the summer rains nourished my imagination and the thick St. Augustine grass. I would completely lose myself in a daydream where anything was possible. Of course, the difficulty started after the rain when I attempted to reenact my dreams. I never did learn to overcome gravity and the attempts were sometimes painful.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Incroyjollyable!
    Tu fais une tapisserie des mots magiques, des images mystiques, des reves troublants.
    Magnifique, comme d’habitude.

    Like

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