Listening to the Rain

Hey all! I’m back with my next poem, titled “Listening to the Rain”. Enjoy!

Lying on my bed,
Listening to the rain,
I think of past memories,
Of both joy and pain.

My head pressed gently
Against pillows soft
Relives moments
I remember not of’t.

Water pounds on the window,
Supported by roaring gales,
I lie listening to their screams,
Till they grows stale.

Rain dances on winds
Whose melodies I admire;
Singing sweet metaphors,
I write verses,inspired.

Lightning illuminates
My brother’s cheerful face,
Whose smile, from memory
Can ne’er be effaced.

There’s not one part
Of the storm that remains,
That isn’t a song I listen to*
Amidst the pouring rain.

-The Forgers of Fantasy

*Here, I mean that there isn’t a single thought or memory or thing that I don’t think of while listening to the rain pouring.

For more such poems, refer The Forgers of Fantasy

18 thoughts on “Listening to the Rain

  1. I love how you capture moments like this–and it’s so effortlessly the way you do it here. I’m mesmerized by each line in this poem. Last night, I kind of went through this, only it wasn’t the rain, it was listening to the rattle of my ceiling fan, reflecting, while listening to “Stan” by Eminem; my mind lingering back to the intro and soft rain in the background mainly. Just that stillness and letting things come through. So many memories can be caught floating to the surface, so easy to reach and recall. It’s like we nearly forgot them, but they’re there to show us they’re still here somehow and it’s beautiful sometimes. Love this piece, it’s magnificent!

    Liked by 1 person

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