With the rain come memories

With the rain
come memories
of other damp corners
of my life
threads of drizzle
slowly slipping
down the skylight

light through a clear
pane of glass
rolling tears
of rainwater

with the rain
comes time
and distance
and every age
I’ve lived

from boy to man
all the expectations
of human warmth
to fill the emptiness

a prayer
secretly harboured
for lasting change
for a purposeful love
for a sense of direction

John Lyons

Edited from an earlier post