Homage to Pablo Neruda

The rain is gathering –
a few drops’ patter announces the downpour.
It falls faster now on the iron roof and the broad leaves.
Secretly the frangipani wakes to drink the monsoon.
You came to me like the rain.
Time passed; the weather changed
and you left puddles on the earth
that showed me the sky in the mud.
The night stirred then, dreaming, stilled.
In the silence of a pool of light
I washed your feet.
They were warm and hard. Bone and sinew.
My hands stroked the contours of the years
the soft water fell in rivulets on your skin
gently mapping the possible –
a clock ticked steadily, the eternal moment.
You come to me like the rain;
beckoning green the garden calls me
redolent with the scent of rain on grass
I breathe - and hear the stars sing distant and bright.

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