With The Voice Of Rain:

In no uncertain terms I described the sky,
Every hue and color and their meaning to me,
The mesmerizing dance of leaf and wind and raindrop,
The utter rhythm of raindrops upon roofs,
The chill I feel at the way ideas fall on Earth,
The frightening vistas of change and passage,
How it burns that those younger do not know the value,
How it burns that I fail to see the worth of new,
In these moments I chastise myself and find youth,
In others I find staunch deliverance in timelessness,
Still leaves whisper upon the branches of trees,
Fall is filled with beautiful contrast,
Love is the final air we all breathe.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/22/2004

Author's Comments:
I miss old times and love new times. Sometimes I wish I were more a part of them, others I realize I am.