Walking Through The Rain

A-walking, a-humming,
The road stretches on,
Your twenty-dollar bill,
Crumbling in your fingers,
Whistling a concerto,
You heard long ago,
Playing in a dream,
Or playing in your head,
How does it matter
When you won't ever be dead?


Down to your last penny,
And you throw it away
On a man who says
He will bless every act
But do you care?
Its raining and yet,
Its a grand new day.
You are happy,
Life is good,
And you  know somebody once said,
To save for a rainy day.
Yeah, right,
But you know,
How rain rhymes with pain
And give rhymes
With live?


Little puddles at your feet
And little leaves
Blowing through,
You have no raincoat
And your fingers turn blue.
But why do you care
Your every day is true.
You are loved and you are
Wanted,
And life walks with you.

The Perfect Love

That love you are

Looking for,

Perfect and glorious,

A man, a woman

To justify your existence,

Isn't coming, and if they do,

There is no guarantee

That they will remain

Who they are now,

Perfect and glorious

After they meet you.

It's not saying anything

At all

About who you are.

But love is cataclysmic

And some changes are permanent,

While others gradual

And on the surface.

The moon is perfect and glowing,

Seen from the earth, while

Pock-marked and dark

When you are standing on it.

But you must know,

How long-winding and boring forever gets,

For even if you don't,

The real you remembers,

The tiresome fact that love can turn to,

When one are two,

And trying hard to merge.

Distances are necessary

To realise the pull, the draw,

The call

Of life,

And if there's one person,

You will not tire looking at,

It's the face in the mirror,

And the soul restfully staring back.

You, the biggest lover you have got,

Until everything merges

Into the here and now

And beats, pulses, breathes as one,

No lover, no friend

No parent, no child,

Nothing at all, nobody,

Can give you lasting joy.

It's not poetry,

No,

It's epiphany.