Do raindrops remember

Looking out the rain streaked
window panes, I am bound up in it,
this moment of meditation. I see
past my reflection through the
glass. Cords of water cascade in
shimmering shapes, the movement
distorting the image. Spikes of
lightning flash bulbs illuminating,
burning pictures in my memory.
Where has each droplet been before?
Tears of a mother, thirst quenched in
a desert oasis, foaming tip of a
wave, crashing surf, placid pool
in a mountain glen, frozen piece
of a comet’s tail, dew on the petal
of a velvet rose, spilled blood of a warrior?
Where have they been and
do they carry the knowledge of their past?
When I die, I wish to come back
as a raindrop to wet the seeds
of birth in Mother Earth’s womb,
to be the glistening moisture
in eyes of a newborn, or
fly as cloud vapor to the top
of the tallest mountain, to be
a single drop of loves sweat caught
in burning passion, to glisten
on lips first kissed, and…..
I wish to remember, forever.

Copyright: 2010, Donald Harbour

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Do raindrops remember

  1. Wonderful poem! I love what you’ve done –the images you’ve created and the meaning of the raindrop. I think rain streaming down windows has quite an effect on us–I recently wrote a poem that was also inspired by the raindrops on my window, though mine take a very different journey than yours. Anyhow, terrific images!

    Like

  2. Robin, thank you for your kind comments. I am glad that you found the poetry pleasing. I will be going to your site to enjoy your work. You are welcome under my Poplar tree anytime. Peace.

    Like

  3. Oh! This is a very deep question you are asking: Where have raindrops been? I love the way you wonder. That’s what we poets do: we wonder. I hope your poem gets more comments. It’s worth a serious read.

    Like

  4. I love the idea of remembering forever; lovely~
    I love these lines, such great imagery!
    “When I die, I wish to come back
    as a raindrop to wet the seeds
    of birth in Mother Earth’s womb,
    to be the glistening moisture
    in eyes of a newborn, or
    fly as cloud vapor to the top
    of the tallest mountain”

    Such powerful prose~

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s