Friday, January 31, 2014

I lost a race with my mind, and it seems I've forgotten how to fall asleep. The welcome rain-friend sings its perfect lullaby in gentle, soothing strains that match my heartbeat and connect me to this place. Chill makes a home in my toes despite blankets piled high, but I curl them 'round and 'round until they come alive again. My surroundings go missing every time my lids flutter to a close as I try to latch on to dreams and steady peace.

The sound of rain makes everything else disappear. I can not hear the cars driving past on their way to somewheres. I can not hear the neighborhood dog barking at nothing. I can not hear Nadia crooning and clawing at the carpet beneath our bedroom door hoping for a midnight confabulation. I can not heard the ruffle of the sheets when Jason stirs. I can not hear my own breathing.

Such poetry. To find quiet in the sound of rain.

iphone  | in lightened - hermonville, france 
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