Surrendering To Rain (Poetry)

It is no sacrifice — this giving up
and lying down and simply letting go —
the dregs taste cold and bitter, and the cup
is cracked, the handle missing, so I know

it’s time to find a hillside — lonely, bleak,
where leaves and grass will wrap my hurt around,
and I can find the comfort that I seek —
let tired bones dissolve into the ground

and feel the rain wash sorrow from my mind,
erase its stinging memory and soothe
each recollection, haunting and unkind,
forever playing — caught in some sad groove.

I dream of floods diluting morbid guilt —
flushing through each artery and vein,
removing deep emotion’s layered silt,
purging grief’s old poison from my brain.

Then, freshly cleansed of cares, my spirit, green,
will melt into the earth, released from pain,
as everything I was — have ever been —
surrenders to the all-forgiving rain.