PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Who decides when it’s time to do the Rain dance?

Who is the one who looks at the corn stalks

Or the turnips

Or the tomatoes

And says, “Too yellow.” Or, “Much too brown.”

I want to decide when to do the Rain dance.

So that every time I’m not happy

With the way things are

Or the way things used to be

Or the way things are going to be

I can look up into the black sky

And shout, “Too yellow.” Or, “Much too brown.”

And have the whole earth

(Or at least as far as I can see)

Rain, and Cry, and grieve with me.



Some people say that

We are all diamonds

Of personality

With a hundred facets

Cut to imperfection

By purposeful hands

And seen by a face with

Contented delight upon our reflections



I was tired of those people

So I walked.

And I am walking.

I have walked five miles

But I am carrying the whole world

And it is full of broken pieces

And lost things.



Will you walk with me?

We can go to Africa

The atmosphere there is almost as thick as you’ve made my skin

So thick

That it makes the sun look different

So thick that it makes the horses there have black stripes.





Once a year in Africa the cows

(Which we could call Wildebeest, if you like)

Migrate over the Nile.

And the crocodiles eat their hearts.



I will call a Rain dance.

But you can’t have my heart.

© Laura Stevens 2007