Where I Stand

Rain fell, sometimes it falls, and can have fallen, when?
in the early morning darkness. My scattered keepsakes, my reminders were reached for in the first few drops

of the need for morning to be morning

and for spring to be spring, regardless of the hour
Sky and Earth, one wide undivided shadow with barest form,

a cloud slowly burst, giving song, in a slow

steady rise of sound following the gush of raindrops.
The earth murmuring, the earth murmuring,
quickly came, and then? and rested.
The clouds were guessed to be thin, was it the wish it was.
Now and then sunlight peeks through a blue lake,

pooled up on the grey landscape of sky

where I stand.