Variations on the Rain

for Jacinta Bernadette Rico Shirakawa
after Margaret Atwood

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You can taste it in your noodle
soup, caffeine free, dripping dry from the
ruddy brows of a mother of the Pad. One
imagines it falling from the ladle
fully formed, congealed overnight past
one's bedtime tickling. Tockling.
Toes of small snails are covered
top to bottom with bubbling
patterns of this as it condenses from
thin air in which is seen bright
leaves overlapping each other like Escher
drawing spirals on a
gel. Like gel but solid it makes a
Splash, on my chai in the
dead of winter
tiny sprinkles on a mat as i stoop gazing,
memorizing the scene of Church or
Temple, a wave of Flakes unseen
untouched but touching all it deposits
itself on, including my teacup. But then
it is liquid again precipitate upon
a jug, a gift of many colors for
you to choose, a ribbon of air really
red orange yellow, blue, green etc.
Upload it, download it, put it in a
Listen to it in a Glass
Melody as it forms an ever present
mist. A water is a water is a water.
You have to reach other and
grab it, it is the ultimate nonnegativity,
dripping nonstop, the
nightly lifeline.

And then you start telling someone else
It, not just an exhibition age artist
Trying to provoke a reaction, but really
Really Tell it, splash by splash, sometimes
without saying anything, just to show,
and be guided. Thus
you change that someone, and
Yourself too! And she
Telling it, changes someone
else both creating shaping in their own
image, the face of One
who we see by loving another.
Planting of seeds is a
cycle, It evaporates, rises up,
becomes a net of ideas we cannot forget,
condenses, attains solidity, built
into underbelly foundations of a Taj Mahal
for Eternity to see, coalesces,
even when melted to inspire another to
evaporate, to Tell.
Regardless of percentages it
makes up the world, and no matter what
Mistakes you make, it is there unflinching.
you don't exchange it like bitcoin,
you just give it so the other can drink,
and receive it so the other can dream.
It can be seen reflecting Positivity in a
mirror, for it absorbs hate,
melts it,
makes all the trees green again,
no matter what season,
it brings perpetual
touches even one who sits lonely upon a
rock, and when you slap it,
it turns the other cheek, melting it, not just
the mortal body. It giveth and it
washes away, it is part of
everything we are, and it falls to us
drop by drop.