Raindrops fall from the sky
soft and quiet at first,
then heavy and loud,
washing away the collections of dirt and dust,
gifting the ground, and all that rises from it,
with a new heartbeat.
I hear voices in my head.
They tell me what I’m supposed to do and when.
When I don’t listen, they scream at me
until I conform,
giving them the victory.
I recognize them, I know who they belong to,
familiarity offers no advantages.
I can hear the rain through closed windows,
rhythmic.
I wonder if it knows how much power it carries,
how much we depend on it.
Open the door to immerse my body
in this falling magic.
Wash away the voices down the gutter
to hear my own at last.
This is how I find peace today.
Dawning Words 