Meditation

Listen 
to the rain
plummet constant as minutes,
dive steady as our breaths,
the pumps in our beats,
drops
dripping on skin
over faces white as cotton fields, 
and brown as sodden soil alike,
over scalps bald, soft as pillows, 
or hardened ripe with age. 

Listen
as it hammers like a tired woodpecker,
to the tack before the trickle,
the hush before the shower, 
this rain you've known for years, 
connected constellations, 
drawn melting hearts, 
traced watery stars on windows, 
steady as breaths. 

Listen 
to it pass,
and come again.

-LBCH