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WEEKEND RAINS – by Kurt April (7th Constantia, January 2018)

There are mornings

In the surrounding garden

Slight of sound

A cooler touch to the skin

A broken-up humid air

Time has no place!


The rain trickles, softly

One hears it fall gently on the paving

Randomly creating its own pools

Brown grass awaits – sustenance indeed

Parched soil invites more of the rain

Can time stand still?


Soft air, the smell of vibrance

A foggy mind finds clarity

Deep thoughts rush in

Reason has no place just yet

Time must stand still!

 

Such dawns seem long-drawn

Some birds courageously choose to chirp

Disturbing the sleepy air, the reflective air

The neighbourhood awakes

Each, at their own time

No struggle.

 

 

 

 


 

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