I awoke in darkness
Finding only the warmth
Of my own body
Under a blanket of feathers
My bedroom door open
To the cool fresh air
Of a nighttime forest
That stands welcomed
In my back yard
When the moon is away
From a nighttime moment
The darkness outside
Takes everything
Even eyes seeking to see
Simply give up
With quiet acceptance
When we realize
It is only our memory
That finds our own
Open hand three inches
In front of our face
Leaving eyes behind
Without sadness
I realize my ears
Were the handles
Used by my soul
To draw me from my sleep
Into the beauty
Of soft rain falling
Onto the world outside
Playing a full and beautiful
Symphony
In the forest and on my roof
On the ground and in the gutters
Leaves and shingles
Drainpipes and puddles
Each raindrop fulfilled
By its own sound
And each note unique
Among all the others
Even the half-full clay cistern
Lets me know it is there
Catching the larger drops
That Fall from the roof edge
Into the joy of their own
Hollow-bellied sound
The gentle white noise
Of soft rain falling
Brightens a blue tarp
Covering dry wood
Waiting for its fireplace
To set it free
Washing with its whisper
In the background
Never overbearing
Just another sound
Uncovered by the fullness
Of the falling rain
My soul is smiling
As I lie there listening
Sharing the beauty
Of my own silence
With the richness
Of soft falling rain
As it plays with everything
That Waits just outside
My open door
Finding only the warmth
Of my own body
Under a blanket of feathers
My bedroom door open
To the cool fresh air
Of a nighttime forest
That stands welcomed
In my back yard
When the moon is away
From a nighttime moment
The darkness outside
Takes everything
Even eyes seeking to see
Simply give up
With quiet acceptance
When we realize
It is only our memory
That finds our own
Open hand three inches
In front of our face
Leaving eyes behind
Without sadness
I realize my ears
Were the handles
Used by my soul
To draw me from my sleep
Into the beauty
Of soft rain falling
Onto the world outside
Playing a full and beautiful
Symphony
In the forest and on my roof
On the ground and in the gutters
Leaves and shingles
Drainpipes and puddles
Each raindrop fulfilled
By its own sound
And each note unique
Among all the others
Even the half-full clay cistern
Lets me know it is there
Catching the larger drops
That Fall from the roof edge
Into the joy of their own
Hollow-bellied sound
The gentle white noise
Of soft rain falling
Brightens a blue tarp
Covering dry wood
Waiting for its fireplace
To set it free
Washing with its whisper
In the background
Never overbearing
Just another sound
Uncovered by the fullness
Of the falling rain
My soul is smiling
As I lie there listening
Sharing the beauty
Of my own silence
With the richness
Of soft falling rain
As it plays with everything
That Waits just outside
My open door
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