It was an outrageous moment:

the words were silent, syllables

separated what she didn't feel

from what she longed to write.

Somewhere in the universe,

there must be the cold palpitations

of her mossy heart.

When she lifted her soft lids,

she saw nothing but a chasm:

a moonlit opening between

her soul and her hands.

She could swear she had fallen

from the stars.

Pain has to be abstract.

life just a surreal enigma:

She reflected for a while.

She opened her Book of Shadows

looking for answers.

She searched her corners, she

emptied the pockets of her dreams:

she was seeking some comfort

or remembrance.

It was raining,

a symphony written for her.

She opened the door and


She could think better in the rain.

Karla Bardanza

1 comment:

  1. "She could think better in the rain..."
    Very true Flower. We feel like our troubles are washed from us and we walk in the rain. It showers the troubles from our soul. Blessings.