When you speak of rain, I image old Greeks’
Oceanus—river ocean circling
Earth, water titan’s ceaseless flow to seek
and grasp Iris’s divine words. Singing
her prism light, her rainbow glowing, she
uncovers our humanity, connects
us to gods. When you speak of pain, I see
you bathing in pearl-glistening brooklet
leading to Costa Rican waterfall,
cleansing past of sorrow. Praying to find
peace, we walk vast shore, sense hypnotic call
of ocean song, lie long, basking in kind
sparkling codes of falling stars. You whisper
of cosmos and hope. I lean close and hear.
Roger Armbrust
May 24, 2013
