A poet friend mine was asked the question:
Why do you use the rain?
What is it about our pain
And renaissance that is the same?
At some suggestion,
I was referred to for an answer
Though I sensed my answer
Would bring me either fame or disaster
Throwing caution to the wind, I replied
To go through agony
We must have an epiphany
To move on and not let hurt
Reduce our growing gardens to dirt.
We can’t wash away the past
Though we sometimes try.
Life time lessons can’t be cast
To the road and driven by
The rain is not to wash away
The price of life we pay
It is to help us grow
And moving on with what we know
So you see,
It is not the poet who uses the rain
It is the rain that gives us the power
To write about the life.
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