In Mind’s Eye

Nope, I had no idea what was going on. . .

Awakening to the petrichorious aroma of rain

I stepped outside and opened my sleep weary eyes

To the murky sound of dripping rain

Falling upon the pavement of the street.

I took out my camera

Under the dreary glow of the morning sky

 Listened to the song and dance of puddles

And the grand jete of rain drops,

The muddled mess of congregrated water

The weeping of aged rust

The plungings of halcyon drops, early in their youth

The rusty fumes of aging metal

And the dry scent of sodden wood.

There may be some things which remain forgotten

And things which lie upon new paths

High upon the heights of journey

Passing through, as if a shadow in a dream.