Rain

Author's note: I wrote this poem over the weekend during a rain and thunderstorm. The soft pitter-patter of the rain seemed soothing at first, but soon came pouring down hard. I'm still trying to decide if this poem is simply about something tangible like rain, or if it is about something else -- something beyond the text. After I read this poem, I thought it sounded a bit like I was describing the journey of life metaphorically as a rainstorm. I wouldn't say I did this intentionally, but I suppose my ideas and the way I described things in the poem had to come from somewhere. What I did do intentionally is closed form. I never, ever write poems in closed form because they are something that I struggle with a lot and something I don't particularly enjoy. However I decided to face my fear and go ahead with closed formatting for this particular poem. It was a challenge for me because I made sure each stanza had the same amount of lines, each line in each stanza had the same amount of words (first line in each stanza had six words, second line in each stanza had four words, ect.), and that in the first stanza the last word in the second line rhymed with the last word in the last line, in the second stanza the last word in the third line rhymed with the last word in the last line, and in the third stanza the last word in the fourth line rhymed with the last word in the last line. Please comment and let me know what you think.

Pouring its wrath onto all civilization,

Stopping to free no one

All are at risk

Of this booming detonation,

This storm is just barely done

Rain! burdened clouds of mournful grey,

To camouflage my sneaking tears

Earth -- a wet dungeon

Waiting for my arrival,

This storm has just begun

Facing the wet and icy chill,

On equal bearing were we

This rain and myself

Our harsh journey done,

This storm I have won