Behind the background
of revitalized trees
is an endless distance
of gray clouds.
For the rain has once again
returned.
The once ever-blue loft
is now a fulminating staleness.
Not a speck,
not a sign
of sun-flecked hope.
It's gonna rain,
I reckoned.

I sat behind
an unmatching curtain
staring blankfully;
for the ignition of modernity
has once again
quivered in paucity.
I am at lost in deaden silence,
I hear but i do not
stop to listen.
My thoughts are congested
with vivid mem'ries
of you with me.
I yearn for you.
I am at lost of your presence.

In between the distant
backdrop of rain clouds
stood rigidly,
but graciously
a conception of novelty.
Leaves on twigs
are once again voluminous
bringing them down
with their cheerful weight.
A graffiti of technicolor;
a rainbow of botany,
dominated by green subtlety.
The trees have long waited
for the clammy breeze
Like I've been waiting
to see you again.
I yearn for you.
I am at war with emptiness.

The light flickered in surprise,
my cue that civilization
has again been ignited.
I bid goodbye
to the distant sky,
to the deaden silence,
to the rainbow of botany,
and embrace the digestion
of hours between now
and when we are together
once again.
I yearn for you,
my rain,
my ignition.