Delving Into Poems

My niche in writing has always been short stories. Perhaps it's because of my habitual grandiloquence in describing things, or the fact that I am fiercely detail-oriented and feel this inexplicable urge to inject every last morsel of every last detail into each sentence I'm writing. Whatever the reason! I've always felt most comfortable with short stories.

With that said, the free-writing poem I've posted below is a "branch" of my writing skills that I've neglected for a long time. But in leau of my online Creative Writing class at my college, UW Sheboygan, I've found myself dipping easily into that untouched puddle that lies in a desolate corner that is the lake of my writing self. Inspiration for this particular poem, entitled "Thirst" came yesterday, when my hometown of Sheboygan, Wisconsin received much needed rain after enduring a dry spell of twenty-two days. It was a nice, steady rain the whole day. I'm sure more than one person and all things living were rejoicing!

For myself I've found rain to be synonymous with inspiration for writing. I could refer back to a blog post I wrote quite a while ago entitled "Songs About Rain" where in it I explained the thought that there are literally thousands of songs about rain. It's not difficult to see why! Whether it's the steady pitter-patter on the roof like change tumbling from a piggy bank, or the way it slithers and cascades off of the eves, forming a tiny waterfall around the house. Maybe it's the way each rain drop seems to be both individual and unified.

Whatever reason you may have for rain giving you inspiration, I hope you enjoy my poem. I conveyed a drought-stricken earth and how it yearns and pleads for the rains above...then how that earth rejoices when said rains finally come. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! I also posted this same poem to my classmates for my online writing class. It will be interesting to see what they think!

Thirst

Is it a strip of beach?
Or a swath of land?
Providing many with livelihoods
Or gathering in dunes like grains of sand.

Comes a cry from the fog-shrouded night
Piercing to the heart
Haunting to the ears
Silence is fractured.

Crops wilt like old men.
Window’s shuttered against sun’s glare
Grass hardens underfoot
Eyes lift pleadingly to the sky

Stretches above, an unmoving canvas
Making no attempts to shield the sun
Thin, gauzy clouds mockingly float by
Now it is known, the source of the cry

From the wilted fields to the fruitless garden
From the yellowed lawn to the faded trees
From the colorless flowers to the angry bees
All things thirst for what lies above

Desert has taken over this land
Forming cavernous valleys where rivers once ran
Parched earth cries out for mercy
All the living dream of a single drop

Amidst the mocking sun it falls
Onto a singular flower petal
Its thin stem bends, its color shimmers
Sun reflected off of its splendor

Soon tiny mirrors catch this gold light
Falling from Heaven like sweet Angel tears
Shutters swing open from dusty windows
All the living thirst no more