photo: public domain
A warm, gentle rain is falling this morning as a finale to last night’s storm.
I turn the blaring overhead fluorescent lights off to soften the harshness of my work day.
Out my window 100-year-old oak trees stand majestically waving in spring, their limbs heavy with swelling buds.
The window is wide and reaches all the way from my desktop to the ceiling.
My office was once a seclusion room and this window was different then.
I wonder if it had been the same if it might have lessened the madness held within… as it does for me now on days when the sky opens and lets me in… Days when I hold your words, days when I fall into the love held in your deep brown eyes, days when I dream of touching you… Days you touch me like this gentle rain falling…
pjw
Poet's Corner 