Rain Sestina

Hark, to the rhythm of the falling rain;
Hear the steady natural music.
Listen to the Sky’s soft song echo,
To the melodies pounded by her tears,
To the poetry where raindrops fall,
To the serene sounds of pitter and patter.

Some dance to the water’s rhythmic patter,
Frolic and twirl merrily in the rain
Splashing in puddle-pools where their feet fall.
They add their own chorus to the Sky’s music.
Among them there is no shedding of tears,
Only the resounding of their laughter’s echo.

But there is another, softer, echo,
An answering sound to the patter,
A lonely widow shedding tears,
At a funeral march in the rain,
To the time of mournful Sky-music,
Accented by splashes where booted feet fall.

In a downtown alley, the sound of a corpse fall,
In tandem with the gunshot’s echo,
Makes a new grisly music.
A man’s steps face into the wet patter.
The smell of gun-smoke mingles with that of rain,
And falling water hides the man’s tears.

High above a murderer’s fallen tears,
On a building’s roof exposed to rain-fall,
A lascivious couple kiss in the rain.
Their whispers of love echo.
On bare skin they feel the soft patter,
And in the same time make their own sweet music.

In his bedroom a boy blasts his music,
Trying to drown his stinging tears,
In heavy metal and the outside patter.
Over song and rain he hears a lamp fall,
And after, angry voices echo.
While parents quarrel there is no comfort in rain.

Some find sweet music in the rain,
For others only tears and sobs echo,
To me it is merely a patter, where the waters fall.