Sound of the Downpour

So much rain has come down

Seems that everything has melted

And become a liquid.

The sound of the downpour

Has been embedded in my ear,

Like the muted downbeat of breakers

In the curling innards of the conch shell,

From so many years sitting empty

On the ocean floor, being nudged along by currents,

Then bobbing ashore with dead fish

And purple blobs of Man-o'-wars,

Caught in tangled nets,

And finally thrown deep into dunes

By a rogue wave or tsunami,

Where it waits for tides to return

And take it home to the sea.

And all the while it hears that drumming surf

Echoing down its spiral staircase,

And it whispers back the sacred chant of waves.

So this rain remains in me

As the underlying wisdom I have learned

And becomes -- like breath, like heartbeat --

The rhythm of my poems.