In the Ephemeral Stream...

It has been raining nearly nonstop for hours.
The raindrops' cadence on the porch roof reminds me of your song.
I wrap my blanket tighter around my shoulders and rock gently.
Gently back and forth to the rhythm of Mother Nature's song.

I stare out past my immediate reality
To the past we spent together
To the stories we shared
To the passion we found in each others' arms.

I'm staring out at the world not seeing it.
Seeing only my memories.
Feeling only my sorrow.
My eyes start to focus on the sodden earth beyond my front porch.

I trace the pattern of the tiny stream,
Newly formed by the onslaught of rain.
It flows gently down the hill and away from my range of vision
Down the hill and into the wooded area that surrounds my tiny home.

I can see myself now
Riding this ephemeral stream
I can feel the gentle wind on my face
The rain soaking my hair, and body, and soul.

I ride the stream in my imagination
Listening to the sound of your song played by the heavens
Feeling the separation from you
Welcoming the pain and sorrow because it proves what I felt was real