Monday, March 30, 2009

Of Rain and Air, by Wayne Dodd



Maurice Ravel, Piano Concerto in G major, II (Martha Argerich, 1990)


All day I have been closed up
inside rooms, speaking of trivial
matters. Now at last I have come out
into the night, myself a center

of darkness.
Beneath the clouds the low sky glows
with scattered lights. I can hardly think
this is happening. Here in this bright absence

of day, I feel myself opening out
with contentment.
All around me the soft rain is whispering
of thousands of feet of air

invisible above us.

4 comments:

stanis-thoughtspoetryanything said...

don't know where to start from but have to start somewhere, i feel like i can't get enough of these writes! absolutely lovely!

Manuela said...

thank you, stanis, it is good to hear you find something that moves you here!

riza noor said...

...i can feel the contentment, it's like a de javu, completely beatiful!

manuela said...

Riza, my friend!! So wonderful to have you here! We must be online at the same time, as your comment just appeared - I like when that happens, makes me feel closer to you on the other side.

I'm glad you like it - that's what I felt reading it, too, a calm, deep contentment.

be well, friend, and visit again!