Pour

when heaven

overflows

countless

falling stars

reincarnate

into

the life

of magical droplets

of water

dancing,

jumping,

rejoicing

into

the rhythm 

the universe

sings

 

perhaps

it is

your language

oh, nature’s soul

to bathe 

every countenance

of life

on this abode

with billion kisses

that this temple

would be left

saturated,

purged

 

pour,

pour.

(Written at Infinitea Bayani Road, Fort Bonifacio.

A poem I wrote while watching an evening downpour from the cafe’s

transparent door)

photo from: thetryingtimesofexcitingdays.blogspot.com

Downpour

Downpour.

As though heaven drops the tears of joy of the angels. Checking if the rain has stopped, I looked out through the glass window beside our office elevator. It made me pause once more. I gave a closer look as I magnified each drop and smelled the scent of nostalgia. I was brought back to reminiscence of some meaningful memories I had with the rain. It’s been quite a while since I’ve found myself amazed like a child as it gracefully falls like a supernatural kiss of heaven to the earth.

Fall.

Some more.

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