*Hatch

what

the winged life

wants

is

to be

outside

in the open

commerce

of hearts

where

nothing

is bought

or 

sold

-Jerry Schroeder, Cap.

I sat and listened

            i.

I sat

    and listened to the rains

    one night

    thinking thoughts of you

o scarred-soul boy

crying within your darkness.

And with each

    splatter-patter

    gentle tapping

    of drops

    twenty nights

    raced across

    the impressed memory 

    of my mind.

Why then

    I know not why.

    I know not why

    your frustrations

    (now mine)

    paused me for a time

so short a time

to stalk me down.

Was it 'cause I listened?

             ii.

The clouds

    cry yet on

    and thunder with pain

    that echoes  you

    to my mind again.

But I must rest

and slumber my head

    (the hours have chased me

    down to now).

(My prayers prayed

    midst the softness

    of those drops

    the racking thunder-pain

to our Hope not far away).

You lay with me

    in my soul's calm unrest

    as I listen to the rains

with their twenty nights of pain.