I woke to the morning,
still lost to last night's darkness,
the endless sound of dripping rain
falling outside my windowsill.
I cursed this prelude,
folded the pillow around my head,
searched in its warm comfort for a dream I could ride.
Just give me a reason, I thought
an inspiration, a purpose
a way to face the rain.
I lay listening for an answer,
hearing nothing but the percussion
of the steady pitter-pattering drops
against the windows and gutters.
Then the wind,
as it whistled through the trees
brought in the tenor of a horn section,
strummed the chains of the porch swing,
and drummed a branch on the roof.
Nature's symphony rose in crescendo,
just to fall,
until only the faint sounds
played in piano,
an overture to a rending thunderclap,
the climax to natures composition.
I lost myself in the music of the morning
and in its beauty found my inspiration.
Joey Jones 2013
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