- Standing in my grave, grey clouds all around.
- Life of signs and keys, with me in the ground.
- Shiver in the cold, blinded by the dark;
- Silenced voice and soul; empty, lifeless heart.
- Then I feel a drop fall upon my brow,
- Second, and a third—downpour on me now.
- Rain washes away caked-on grief and pain;
- As the raindrops cease, I’m made clean again.
- Ling’ring on the air, scent of wash-ed earth;
- Blossoms from the trees, fruit before their birth:
- Drifting through my lungs, richen every breath,
- Cleanse inside my soul; life replacing death.
- Mighty came the tongues rushing through the trees,
- Whirling ’round me now, mitigating breeze.
- Wind whips through my hair, wicks away the rain,
- Wraps my body whole, comforts and ordains.
- Sun upon my face, close my eyes to bask.
- Burning, tingling rays melt away the mask.
- Dipped in flaming pow’r. Dove perched on my heart.
- Wave goodbye to end, turn around to start.
Listen to me read my poem and explain its symbolism:
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