Rainy Day Memories ~A Good Day For Thoughts

by Anne P. Murray
(Bessemer, Alabama)

It’s a cloudy, rainy day...
I stand at my window watching the performance
which is like an endless curtain of tears falling down from heaven
A blanket of light, silvery threads that rush
to quench the thirst of the hard almost-winter ground
It's the kind of rain that becomes pleasurable to watch because it makes my home seem like a safe haven
It's really a very lovely gift - where you can sleep late and not feel guilty about doing so

My thoughts aimlessly wander to other times where memories collect in small bits and pieces
like tossed glass marbles that roll around on the lonely floors of my mind
they scatter about causing my thoughts to drift here…then there
I follow one reverie...
then another creeps into my head
as my thoughts gather in transient, ethereal places of my heart -my soul
I reach out for one trying to reconnect
some of the wounded pieces of my life -
that seem fragmented, shambolic
Many bruises left unseen - but not forgotten
They unfold in bits and fragments -
fleeting and competing with other reminiscences...
impatiently waiting for their story to be told
as they go about littering the landscape of my mind

I tend to lean on poetry to purge my soul-
as my mind wanders about in deep thoughts and fuzzy memories

An early hush descends...
as the gentle music of soft rolling thunder flows from every drop of rain
they lightly tap their dulcet tears against my window panes
Mother nature echoes her melodious voice
in the clouded sky with comfortable soothing sounds
that cast their light shadows upon my windows

I close my eyes and breathe in their liquid flowing music
The edges of the outside world melt into blurred shadows as I contemplate the thought...
"What makes "me" me and "you" you?

I do know I'm a warrior, a survivor
I've fought many battles...
lost some - won some
but in the losing I learned I could survive...
and still be a warrior

My mind ruminates on these thoughts
that seem to drift around so randomly- so aimlessly
A gentle rain softly pounds the brooding sky
as a small tree branch softly scrapes against my window...
reminding me it would be a nice day for tomorrow

Maybe I have too much time on my hands
I really don’t know what to think...
but today seems like a good day for doing it

*´¨) ¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨) *´¨)*´¨) ¸.•´¸.•*´¨)


Anne P Murray

C/R 10/2015