can you hear the swish of rain

can you hear the swish of rain
on the already slick asphalt
interspersed by handfuls of wind

have you stopped everything
you usually begin your day with
and just listen to how

i am reaching out to you
i am sharing the first sounds
of a morning not quite hatched

as it is dark, the cats sleep
in a tangle on the piano
the second story red brick building
i live in is encapsulated

with such a thunderous silence:
children, parents, grandparents...
dream of being more patient
paying more attention to elders-

the garbage truck swings by
at exactly 6:40 am
we all are as ready
as we can be

for the sunrise--however much
it will be obscured---by the rain,
the tear filled sky, releasing
myths of inequality, the lessening

of lies--that can bring us closer
to discovering each others'
humanity- healing the hurts
with both the gentle pling of rain,

and a learned appreciation
 for each breath, holding
our hands firmly--as we
ascend the mountain

not knowing clearly
where the summit breathes thinner air
but feeling complete
with the crimson beat--

how we own our tree,
 like arteries and veins--
 how we entertain a second birth,
 as it rains

~words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '14