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Getting On : Lovers
Taken By the Rain | from madly - Tuesday, May 20, 2008
accessed 704 times Alone on a rainy day with nothing but my madness to keep me company... Rain… wash me away. Melt me down until there is nothing left, but the faint taste of salt in the air. Let me lift off the earth into the sky, light as the wind that carries you now. Toss me into the heavens that I so long to be a part of. Take me away to dance on a cloud and sleep as a star in love with the moon. If I close my eyes, I am there already, lost in the knowing of not needing to know, as one created simply to be.
Hide me for a night, for a day, if not forever. If I ever were to weigh you down, then hit me with your lightning, storming me back to life. But first, take away the build-up that I have formed after walking in the filth from a life that can only end with the promise of darkness and death. I must live on the ground among the mud and muck. A place infested with disease and contamination, in which one has no choice but to live an infected life. I am forced to breathe air filled with dust that corrodes my mind and inhibits any form of clear thought. I survive somehow by looking up at your beautiful sky, a light filled life, I can’t help but feeling I somehow fell from and have no way of returning to. When you pour upon me, for a second I can breathe again; see again, a world full of color, clean, fresh, crisp and beautiful.
How simplistically beautiful, the calm before the storm leaving echoes of whispers in the wind of the drawing near of something fast approaching. You can almost sense the restlessness of the sky, waiting like an impatient audience. A sky that has grown bored of an eternity of rising moons, setting suns and falling stars. Desperately it anticipates the coming light show, clapping and excitement that only the ever changing storm can bring. The sweet release of the willing rain that promises a return to follow forever with a purpose it has always known. A perfect storm, a life force given to another, only to be given life in return, is a life meant to last forever in the exchange. Who could ask for more?
Like sweet passion you use your power. You toss your rain as if you were lovers creating a private storm shared between you. You tease your beloved rain, blowing her about hard, then soft, one way, then another. Stronger and stronger until you are both overwhelmed to a point of orgasmic bliss, exploding her, causing her to shower down in thousands of pieces. Utterly depleted you rest for a time gathering strength for your lover to return again. You are left exhausted in your continuous cycle of controlling something that is a part of you, yet far too intense to be contained. Forced to release her, you push her out, letting her go, even though it pains you to have any sort of separation between you. You know all too well that you will immediately long for her return. You impatiently watch her gather, growing with excitement and longing, as she comes to you, slowly forming inside you once again. Then the dance resumes, sometimes stronger, other times soft and sweet, but never will it end, except to begin again.
Oh, to live as a form of true beauty, such as pure drops of falling rain poured from an eternity of sky that brings hope to a dry dusty world. How it would feel to be so consumed, yet utterly released again and again. How it would feel to know your life would always have a purpose. What peace would come with the comfort of knowing that you would always return to a place you had always belonged to, and always would? What would it be like to have that power behind your life force, understanding your essence was put into being in order to be shared? You forever twisted in the life of another who longed for what you could only bring to them, almost as if you were their heart, if not their soul.
Rain, fall on me forever, if only to leave me to rust with your memory filled residue. Never will you fade away, and never will you ask to be anything more than what you have always been. Sadly, your perfect nature is wasted on a cold dry world, full of imperfect people who somehow forgot they were born surrounded by so many things perfect and beautiful. Precious rain, live on, wrapped away in the arms of your storm, creating a love with the strength of a hurricane. A love so powerful that it may overtake us to the point that one day we might all have the chance to be swept up and taken by the rain. |
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Reader's comments on this article Add a new comment on this article |  from solemn
Monday, May 26, 2008 - 20:54
 (Agree/Disagree?)
Sigh.......
(reply to this comment)
| from elisha717
Thursday, May 22, 2008 - 09:26
(Agree/Disagree?)
Hey, it's me again! Is this new?
I really liked the part that said, "You forever twisted in the life of another, who longed for only what you could bring to them, almost as if you were their heart, if not their soul." Very well written words! A lyrical way to express what it was like in the group, (and a good way to explain my parents).
(reply to this comment)
| | | |  From elisha717
Friday, May 23, 2008, 18:12
(Agree/Disagree?)
Because it was all about what "we could bring to them," it's like they're the children and we were their parents. And my whole life was about me taking care of my brothers and sisters, and fundraising for "God" and my family, any personal feelings were called "selfish" as it was all about what my parents wanted to do.
"As if you were their heart, if not their soul" it was more like I was my parents possession, my mother used me all the time for her own glorification. Everything I did was about making my mother look like "Mother Theresa," as long as I was sweet and humble and a hard worker, (and believe me, my mother always offered me up to do the hardest jobs). She wanted me to dress like her, be "mommyish" like her (11 babies, ugh), [sorry but I just don't understand people like that] !!
"You forever twisted in the life of another who longed for what only you could bring to them" . I never felt loved for who I was, I was always trying to earn my parents love, I always made desicions based on what my parents would say. When I visit, I always feel like I have to pay for most things, or pay for them to visit me.
I give so much but get nothing in return! (All I want is unconditional love, and I have had to face the fact that that is the one thing I will never get from them).
When I danced, my mother sent me this letter saying how I was dancing to get boys attention (well ya!), and that me turning to my music was me trying to fill a void that only "you know who" can fill. Never, "are you ok" or "I am proud of you for trying to make it" (for having the guts to walk out of an abusive relationship, with nothing but my 4 yr old son and me), and doing what it takes to survive and put food on my sons table. Well, I am ok now, and dancing helped get me to where I am today.
Anyway, to me those words you wrote have meaning in that way! (reply to this comment) |
| | From madly
Saturday, May 24, 2008, 01:26
(Agree/Disagree?)
I get you… I can see what you mean, and understand how you feel. Thanks for explaining. I feel badly for making you think about it.
I guess that confirms what I said before about poetry; how it can mean something different for everyone. We get what we feel, and what we have felt, out of everything around us. We give the world the very same meaning the world has bestowed upon us. We see things, not necessarily as they are, but rather, how WE are. To you the world could be black then white; for me, white then black. We could both be right, at the very same time, both completely wrong. Never will we agree, and never will we fully understand how it could be so, less we change minds and hearts for a life.
I guess it just threw me, because I was talking about the love between soul mates. “You forever twisted in the life of another who longed for what you could only bring to them, almost as if you were their heart, if not their soul.” I was talking about a love so powerful, where two people were so strongly connected that without the other it was as if their heart had been taken away.
My words, I guess, give me away, and in the same way, yours do. Here we are left with our private truths unveiled; exposed by our words meant to explain another’s, only to leave us explained.
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| | from steam
Wednesday, May 21, 2008 - 06:30
(Agree/Disagree?)
Sorry to trivialise but I just want you to know that if Rain isn't up to the challenge I would be happy to help you figure out "How it would feel to be so consumed, yet utterly released again and again." Just to give a spoiler it feels pretty good.
(reply to this comment)
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