23 VOLUME 9 |ISSUE 2 |2018
Let Me
(Dedicated to ICSA)
Let me hold myself still
in my well of sorrows
in my wellspring of joy
let me armor my heart
with both pain and rapturous ecstasy
and although the wind tears at my clothes
and the tide threatens to wash me away
let me stand firm, rooted in who I am
with the miles I’ve walked having calloused my
feet
and turned them to stone
let me swell my chest and raise my chin
and let my hands rest gently at my side
and although tears course down my time, and
weather, and weary-worn face
let me smile the smile of a fool in love
who was wise enough to know only to bend my
knee
and lower my head at that touch and that touch
alone
Let me hold myself, dignified
having lived a life not envied by many
but lived by me carried out with a steel-strong
spine
a sheer will the sea alone can understand
until I be carried away, nothing more than a
twinkle in time
but a twinkle nonetheless.
The Rain Remains the Same
There are fresh winds and sweet smells on the air tonight
As a storm rolls in from the south
Like a gentle push, the humidity flees and the sweet
fragrance that was held down
Is flung heavenward as the thunder begins to roll
The raindrops fall in earnest, and the ground sighs with pure
delight
And releases tendrils of white mist like ghosts rising from
the tomb
The drops are cool almost cold
On my flushed skin
And memory leaps forward in my mind
And drags me back in time to remind me
Of every rainstorm I have ever heard
All at once, I am but a child, watching from my window
And then a young soldier taking shelter in a tank
Soon, a young lover listening to the patter on a breath-
fogged window after we were spent
And now a married man, with money in the bank
Each storm reminds me of
How long the journey’s been
So many roads, laugh lines upon my face
And history behind my name
But there’s a comfort in knowing that no matter who, and
what, and where I’ve been
The rain remains the same.
Let Me
(Dedicated to ICSA)
Let me hold myself still
in my well of sorrows
in my wellspring of joy
let me armor my heart
with both pain and rapturous ecstasy
and although the wind tears at my clothes
and the tide threatens to wash me away
let me stand firm, rooted in who I am
with the miles I’ve walked having calloused my
feet
and turned them to stone
let me swell my chest and raise my chin
and let my hands rest gently at my side
and although tears course down my time, and
weather, and weary-worn face
let me smile the smile of a fool in love
who was wise enough to know only to bend my
knee
and lower my head at that touch and that touch
alone
Let me hold myself, dignified
having lived a life not envied by many
but lived by me carried out with a steel-strong
spine
a sheer will the sea alone can understand
until I be carried away, nothing more than a
twinkle in time
but a twinkle nonetheless.
The Rain Remains the Same
There are fresh winds and sweet smells on the air tonight
As a storm rolls in from the south
Like a gentle push, the humidity flees and the sweet
fragrance that was held down
Is flung heavenward as the thunder begins to roll
The raindrops fall in earnest, and the ground sighs with pure
delight
And releases tendrils of white mist like ghosts rising from
the tomb
The drops are cool almost cold
On my flushed skin
And memory leaps forward in my mind
And drags me back in time to remind me
Of every rainstorm I have ever heard
All at once, I am but a child, watching from my window
And then a young soldier taking shelter in a tank
Soon, a young lover listening to the patter on a breath-
fogged window after we were spent
And now a married man, with money in the bank
Each storm reminds me of
How long the journey’s been
So many roads, laugh lines upon my face
And history behind my name
But there’s a comfort in knowing that no matter who, and
what, and where I’ve been
The rain remains the same.
