spring.

it is the first rain of spring
and
i am
300 miles from home.

and the water
drips
drips
drips.

is it April? Is this real?
My life has been full of
dark Decembers
overcast with madness
and insecurity.

300 miles from home,
as the water
drips
drips
drips.

now i sit and shiver
it is cold but
this cold is different.
enjoyable. new.

for so long i have wandered
in sadness, set adrift on
the seas of insanity
thrashed by the storms
of November.

now, each fat raindrop
sends ripples across
the puddles of the cement
with a delicate
drip
drip
drip

so strange to see the
source of life
stretched across the dirty, paved road…

washing it clean.
baptizing it.
reminding us that
we cannot control the weather.

the gentle rains of April…
a beginning-
a choice-
a promise.

a promise that i’ll soon be
300 miles closer to home.
300 miles closer to you.
300 miles closer to hope.

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