The Taste of Rain

This is a poem I wrote in or around 2007 after losing my health, my home, my career, and occupation. During this dark night of the soul, my ex-husband left the country and never returned. The poem is darkness and light. Finding the light is like tasting the rain.


King David played the golden harp and drove the demons away.

I can’t seem to make the melody come; I’m plucking on strings of pain.
Once upon a midnight star, upon a sailor’s ship. . .
I stood and watched you sail right by, as my captain cried out in distress.

But you were much too busy, looking at the wind, and at sea,
I tossed and turned and waved my arms, but you ignored my pleas.
I’m thirsty, and I need to drink the water that makes one never thirst.
I pray
I wipe the tears that slide and drip off my fingertips
I wish I hadn’t drifted so far into this dark black mist.

The only thing to stare upon is stars and moonlit beams,
They bounce and flutter upon the waters,
but I am so thirsty I could scream.
If only I could quench this cry and heal my parched, parched, soul.
If only the One who delivers would swiftly make me whole!

David came and plucked his harp and angels sang great praise.
My ears heard only screeching cries upon my neck,
I felt a demon’s haunted breath.
I wish that I could die, and forget my tattered past.
After much trepidation, I humbly bow my knees.
And before I know it I’m repenting of all my crimes with tearful, heartfelt pleas.
More and more tears did slide and salted my anguished lips
I clutch my heart and squeeze my eyes and slowly began to slip. . .
Slip into the melody, like flutes and fainted dreams
And after long and bitter moans I hear a delightful sound
Twas king David playing his golden harp, he plucked and pulled each string,
a song only me and the angels hear as I glide through the sea.

Faster into the night, your silhouette I can faintly see.
Just a glimpse of you turning away, turning your eyes from me.
You abandoned me at my blackest hour.
It’s hard to take a breath,
I ride a wave into crashings currents,
Like Job, I beg for death,

But up upon a hill did glow, a light that caught my eye,
The lighthouse swelled with height so tall.
It towered over the sea.
Like a knight in shining bronze, a beacon for all to see.
It glowed into the darkening night and dried up all my tears.
Demons scream and demons fled and I became serene.
Then suddenly the sky opened up and rained a glistening stream.

It washed upon my gown and ran gently through my hair.
My pores opened up to taste its purity.
It trickled across parched, thirsty skin that had cracked, and bled.
It whispered to my spirit be free.

I opened up my mouth and drank,
I drank till was content,
And suddenly you were but a fog upon the outer mist.

The rain pelted all the pain into the black, dark sea
David played his golden harp and angels serenaded me.
I finally close my eyes and sleep under its amber glow,
The stars, the moonlit night, the beacon upon the hill. . .
And angels say they cannot cry, but whisper

Photo by Andrew Mushekov

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. WOW. Charlene Reams Manning Hens Acre Farm Georgetown, Texas (512) 819-0803

    I was young, and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging for food. Psalm 37:25

    1. Tekoa says:

      Is that a good Wow or a bad wow? Lol

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