February 1, 2013


Rain on the roof
just over my head
rushes back
from where it came,
filling the gutters
below the window.
In its falling
I hear my name,
washing away
all my sin and sorrow,
leaving me asleep
deep in the sound,
clean and smooth
as a well-worn stone,
ready for a place
in the still water,
seeing my face
peering down at me,
so full of youth,
and expectancy.