5 am

Not sure when or why this one popped into my head. It's been raining here since yesterday afternoon. Off and on, just a soft rain. Nice, calm, soothing. I awakened to the sound of the rain falling through the maple tree that's in the backyard outside our bedroom window and I had the first part of the following poem resonating in my head. Indulge me. It's not often anymore that I do poetry, neither the reading nor writing of it.

5 am

I lie awake in our bed
hearing the rain whisper
through ancient oak
on its descent
to inescapable
fate.

Around me the house slumbers
and I aware and listening,
hear each drop when
upon meeting fate,
utter softly
“oh!”