Jonathan Beale- A Poem

When rain dances

The rain danced on the windscreen.

As each a diamond -

Smashing forth…,

into a million, billion, quintillion new lives!

New lives in old -

The poet sits like a poor Christian waiting in a brittle silence,

A dove, a Jew in a gentile town looking for gold in the drenched gutter -

The misty image of the past, there, and yet fragmented in the now…

in the freshly revealed….Now.

After the last breath, leaves.

Nothing remains.

Just air, water, fire, earth.  Then.

Nothing remains –

No hope - no optimism – no regrets

Nothing remains  

First appeared in The Screech Owl.