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letra de religion of the raindrop - 137 (usa)

i’ve seen
mountains
formed through
steadfast intent
and canyons
carved by
rivers
that would not relent

for pasture chewed and trampled
again on the verge of verdure
i commend how you commend
what you have nurtured
to the gaping jaws of paradise
offering your flesh as a perennial oblation
a sacrifice to be the cud for rumination

saw a lone wildflower
mourn its fallen comrades
after lawn anew was mown
i heard it, moan, in guilt
and, groan, for the nectar spilt
heard it shudder at the gardеner
impeding the bladеs of grass he’d grown

witnessed i a pupa doubt its purpose
it felt confined by chrysalis
it grew impatient with its metamorphosis
heard a bird squawk, distressed, tonight
for the woodnotes of the day
that faded from its memory
and another fowl, depressed
foul mood, for following fully flock’s behest
which it could not forget
amusing
one laments that it can only with a muse sing
the other has many a musing
on cutting the strings that move its wings

i heard a drop of rain
whisper to its pastor
“what comes after
are there luscious fields waiting for me
just to leave this billowy raft or
when i fall from heavens
will i just keep plummeting faster”

eagle’s wings did anchor it to sky
and to the seabed when it swam

sun taught me that cloudy days do not lessen its brilliance
only sway how its light rays are perceived by the audience

heard snowman accept its death
upon a springtime morning
hands were cold retrieving coal and carrot, him adorning
gave a stray a meal and some water on a sunny day
and it dragged it to another found in worse condition
fain to ask the question
“how are you so generous
while penurious”
it told me, “love of money is the greatest destitution”

winds profess
“past is unreachable
future—inconceivable
but drowning in the present is achievable”

“you’ll be swept away if you’re too slow and starve if you’re too far
stay a step in front of the surf”
a sanderling conveyed to me

i, watched water compete
in sea, to see, from better seat, sun arise
i respect the fervor of the tides
frowned, when i found
in a bucket, crabs
dragging one another down
while the leaves of tree, understand
they all can belong to crown
only forfeiting their place
when embrace they, the ground
“is my
death nigh
when of eggs i’m dry”
clucked the hen
a rose gave hope
saying, “you can bloom again
each end
begets the start, of a new season”
heard the evening after
“what should i use, to season”

closest for those highest feel the furthest
but gale doesn’t fret at leaves it misses
neither does the rain, at cheeks, it never kisses

banana
croaked that bruises make it sweeter

i, overheard a conversation
‘tween a sapling and an a ancient
“as i inch toward heavens
am i closer to heaven”
ancient responded, “neither size of your crown
nor your distance from the ground
gets you closer to your planter
choose to grow down
roots, deep in ground
make creator smile
and the one who foils frown”

cactus taught me
how to show no dismay
when cool showers
do not come this may
and importance
of celebrating fresh rain
with spiked limbs

flower must drink daylight to shed beauty
consumption and production are interconnected
likewise, intertwined are sacrifice and duty
when i receive a bouquet, i see heads decapitated

i met an envoy of the wind
en route to a tornado
howling, “messages of grandeur
each are wax-sealed with danger”

- 137 usa

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