Rain, on becoming

Adam Cockell
Mar 2, 2024


Waking up, feeling stiff.

The bulge under my right eye.

The sound of rain from the sky.

Standing up;

The dull pain in the arch of my left foot.

Reminds me to be me.

Looking out the window;

Rain pounding the driveway.

Franklin ready to go;

I fought you as long as I could.

As hard as I could.

And you fell on me.

Walking with my head down;

The horizon barely visible.


I missed the other dogs.

And the beauty of the trees.

Then I found you;

The cold became warm.

The heaviness a light mist.

Not just a tickle on my cheeks.

You spoke to me;

The art of creation.

The individuality in the mass.

All from one.

And yet distinct.

For I could never know every drop.

Unless it was always me.

Photo by Saad Chaudhry on Unsplash.



Adam Cockell

I write about the mystical power of creative storytelling. Creator of Viasonata. https://www.viasonata.com