the first rain of the new season

outside the wind is still wet from the rain
the rain has stopped, the leaves on the trees
though i cant see them from here
are still damp with the wet

the wind chimes sing gently to the night
and you and i, settle in to sleep

its turning 3
i have to be up at 5
i should be in bed, but
sleep is far away

i can still feel your presense
on the window ledge, where you sat
a while ago
in my mind, i can see u frowning

i'm listening to this song after an age
nazereth: love hurts
i love the rawness of his voice when he sings it
love is just a lie, meant make me blue. love hurts ...

what kind of irony, is this?
ur hurt, turns in my heart like a twisting knife
and mine, moves to aside to make it room
its ok. just one more feather, on the camels back

i've been here a million times before
it feels like i am back on familiar ground
doubts, fears, pain, acidity. betrayal,
congenital. i can handle that

it was the joy,
sudden, unfamiliar,
new and unexpected,
that had had me thrown

on the terrace, the jasmine wilts
wasting its sweetnes in the void
the red brick that glowed in the dusk
is barren with the setting sun

the theatre is empty too
the seats are vacant
the tears from the sky,
lay everything damp

in some house nearby, there's water running
someone has turned on a bathroom light
a child cries, somewhere, in his sleep
an early bird, sings

its too early
to sing to the dawn
the bird stops and waits
will dawn come?

Originally Posted at Prerona.