Hope & Question

it struck me

so i had to share it with others

The Rain by Robert Creeley

All night the sound had come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself that must be remembered,
insisted upon,
so often? Is it
that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me
something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out
of the tiredness, the fatuousness,
the semi-lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.

posted by Loren @ 1:27 PM