Crying

It goes without saying, I've not blogged in some time.  I have written poems because they just come when they like, if I let them.  When today was proving quite difficult, I recalled a poem that I wrote last May when I was feeling hurt and vulnerable and cried floods. Confession: this day really looks no better from my present angle.  Nonetheless, I got a little gift again. In the rain.

bursting cloud

pouring out

what heart

would dare 

to spill if voices didn't

say the fault was mine

every drop of rain

tells truth from lies

wound seen

hole filled

showers ease

ache relieved

for finding ally

in the sky

~ c. l. atkinson