Under The Rain

She stood in the garden, her eyes blazing as she stared at me.  I couldn’t see what she was so empassioned about.  It was hidden in that proud, tossing head.  She was eating plums – ripe, red plums, imperfect, blemished, but full of giddying juices.

She was giddying.

Barefoot.  Oversized green satin nightshirt.  Wild green eyes and long, random hair.  Standing under the rain, pouring itself onto her head, dripping off her nose, painting her makeshift dress darker, where it was not already stained with ink and plum.  I’d never seen weather so silver and gold.  The rain sang off every leaf and branch and stone, trickled in streams from the edges of the roof, the sun spilling its answer of liquid gold across the paths, dancing through the foliage, melting over the pine bark on the ground.  We stood in the garden and I watched her live among it all.  Watched with love the way she shone.  She sucked at the plum between her teeth with her tongue and stepped her way towards the house.  She walked a dance.  She spoke in songs.  Not singing now; only acknowledging my existence by her generosity in not disappearing into the shining air in a shower of droplets, as I knew she wanted to, and most probably could.

I was grateful to see.

February ’07


6 Responses to “Under The Rain”

  1. 1 brightsilentthought November 20, 2007 at 8:53 pm

    I find Under The Rain really beautiful – energetic, passionate and quietly sensual. It drew me back for a third and fourth reading. I like it because its so rich in natural imagery, you use words beautifully and especially because it doesn’t try to go anywhere, to conclude. You’re painting a picture here, which becomes more vivid each time I read it. Its lovely to see someone using their imagination like you do – its a tonic. Its like seeing a mind dancing.

  2. 2 pizazz November 21, 2007 at 3:51 am

    Thankyou so very much for such a wonderful comment… I’m so glad you enjoyed this piece 🙂

  3. 3 brightsilentthought November 21, 2007 at 4:11 am

    Thanks. I’m so new to the whole blogging world and still figuring out how it all works. This is my first comment on someone’s blog, and I was nervous to hear what you’d think.

    I must say that I’ve searched for poetry, prose and writing using the main WordPress.com tags, and your’s is the only I’ve found so far which touches me. I’m sure there are more good writers out there but why are they so hard to find on WordPress?

    I have written my own poetry in the past, but not too much recently, and I’m trying to get back into it alongside some major life changes. I find your work inspiring.

    I will spend many happy hours reading your work in future.

  4. 4 pizazz November 23, 2007 at 12:14 am

    I suppose there are many good writers out there… but there are even more crappy ones and I guess it’s hard to find the good ones amongst all the bad ones 😛

    I haven’t been around WordPress much, so I have no idea really.

  5. 5 SamaraRegion March 1, 2008 at 7:34 pm

    []its the best post from you, thanks a lot[]

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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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