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Old

Rain is old.

It seems so

young and fresh
     (in the spring)

angry and vibrant
     (in the summer)

calm and mature
     (in the fall)

but rain is old.

New water cannot exist.

It’s all recycled

over
    and over
         and over

again.

And somehow, knowing
   that the same rain
       that wet the hair of

Cleopatra
    Gwenhwyfar
         Sacagawea

kisses my cheeks,
  I feel young again

beneath the cold blanket

    of my coming winter.
©2008-2009 *Blueskye27
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Submitted: June 18, 2008
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#18 in ~cypriphobia's June Prompt Challenge - old

**changed the formatting a little...
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And somehow, knowing
that the same rain
that wet the hair of

Cleopatra
Gwenhwyfar
Sacagawea

kisses my cheeks,
I feel young again

-----

Beautifully written
:+fav:

--
Amru Salahuddien
An imaginative take on the prompt.

I like it.

--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.

Words create situations

The roots of the future run deep
beautiful... thats an amazing concept, Blue...
i hope one day i'll be able to make magic with my words, the way you did with this piece...

--
Due to Economic Crisis, The Light at the End of the Tunnel has. Been. Turned. (Off.)
cindycindycindy . . .putting it just so once again:hug:

--
post-script

mere words can
transcend meaning
(what you think, and write, and say).
haiku becomes
a mantra becomes
the pattern for your day.

-praytell
ironic cause its raining now lol
good work :heart:

--
"so we fix our eyes not on what is seen,
but what is unseen.
for what is seen is temporary,
but what is unseen is eternal.'

' my future shall be better than my past"
This is great. Never thought this way about it. Great work!

--
"I don't know where your dog is, but I think it exploded."
Funny the things we think in the shower... :aww:

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