Words rain –
breaking in the
gutter
shattering our sutures
and transfiguring the ground.
We have been wearing our umbrellas,
We have been shrinking in our best,
We have been scarfed and laid to rest
but words rain
down.
Words come and break the mirror
flowing deeper
than before
a sudden scattered light
a shard like-flight
on wooden shore.
We had been sleeping in our shivers
And from pillar slung to pillar
But words rain.
More.
Till we take upon our heads
A ragged cap of motley
Till we rise up from our beds
And throw open all our doors.
Till we whistle to our wolfhounds
Till we clamber to our cliffs
Till we trip the trap of starlight
Till we whet our aching lips
Tomorrow we riddle
Today we ring
Yesterday we were singing.
To words as they cling.
They rain the grass to ribbons
And they rain the o to moon
They rain the foaming pebbles
And they rain the liquid tune.
They rain the new believers
And they rain the falling fool
Whose leap off the cliff-face
Is kiss-faced
Is liquid
And bliss-faced
Is word-paced
As they rain
down the dawn.
