You have never seen life until you’ve stepped
in a fall of rain, as Autumn slow and long
creeps to hidden music, a Tuesday song
on a steel-gray morning, in a chair you’ve kept
for the Friend who may yet come. Alarming
as it may be, but no sweat in the thought,
you find you are there, where all is not
as it ought be. With no threat of harming
you, your Friend knows you need to wait, a time
to dance in puddles, as acorns tapping
on old frost-heaves wake Winter from its napping
to sing: “No need to wait for life to rhyme.
The rain right now has its own peculiar form—
good for drinking, and for wondering.”
Dwelling deep in the forests of New England, Graham spends most of his time reading, taking walks with his dog, and learning new and interesting things (and reveling in cooler, more temperate climates). Born and raised in the Boston area, Graham was homeschooled from an early age. After high school, he proceeded to get a bachelor’s in Literature from Patrick Henry College in Northern Virginia. He currently resides in the Boston area while pursuing a master’s in Education at Gordon College, steeping in the rich history of his home turf and a continued exploration of literature from across the world. He says you should read Alan Paton’s Cry, the Beloved Country and Chaim Potok’s The Chosen, because they are incredible novels. Also, read Robert Frost.
This is lovely!
There are few things I love more in this world than the rain. Thunderstorms soothe me and the smell of the rain is like nothing else!
I could feel this and almost smell the rain. I love this!
I keep rereading this because it’s just so beautiful. I love rain, and the diction and imagery in this poem…wow. I love the texture of this poem. (Is that an odd comment/does it make any bit of sense? haha) And the line breaks really tie in well with the lines about not needing to rhyme and having its own peculiar form. Anyway, I’ll quit gushing, but this is lovely. ^.^