Ed Ellsworth

SPIRIT OF THE RAINDROPS

Reflections of the moonlight, raindrops are sparks
Creatures of the night, quelled by thunderous marks,
In quiet occasions the fearsome soul doth rest
Gone are the moments when I laid on mother’s sweet breast.

The back stiffens frozen pain from within
Longing for shelter free from my sin
Unseen hands numb, crack they did bleed
Wet steel, held for the most callus of deed.

Thoughts of the future insanity to the present will pass
Child of God, gone with the shattering glass,
Peace, serenity, the promise of life,
Raindrops of remorse, the reality of strife.

Dry memories, discomfort of the raindrops is taught
Fire’s warmth the treasure to be sought
Cannon’s sounds, dreams to be fought
Notions of humanity, traitors to be caught.

Those raindrops still explode as miniatures sparks
Would that the shower could wash away the marks,
Reverent this night, to finish my soul’s quest
Cleanse me with raindrops to lay on mother’s sweet breast