It Rained. {poetry}
{source}
A thick fringe of water overhangs
my gutter-less wraparound porch.
Hundreds of miniature waterfalls crash on the cement beneath my bare feet
creating tiny explosions upwards —
Wet fireworks,
Fast, ephemeral fountains that exist and expire in under one second.
I watch quietly, wrapped in a towel.
All of me is spent.
Earlier I battled through a mind of hot metal.
All thoughts burned their fingers when navigating the circuits.
I was utterly uncomfortable.
It was perfectly unmalleable, this formidable mental malaise.
Decisions were as difficult
as swimming in an 18th century royal gown.
No task was simple enough.
My to-do list shook its finger at me —
Pointing accusingly.
I was impeded, frustrated and finally
I forced myself to plant the redbud and flowering dogwood trees I had purchased earlier today.
You can do this, I told myself.
You can at least do this.
Physical labor does not require a sweet temperament or deep thought.
Oh, the humidity was stifling.
My face became red, a halo of frizz was cooking about my crown,
my clothing was sodden with the piss of my pores, all of me was smeared with mud.
I felt self-repulsion.
How I stank, this matted animal I was.
Yes! I told myself, Yes!
You are an animal.
A toiling, moody she-beast.
Be a servant to your instinct.
Embrace your filth and
your primal need to sculpt your den.
I abandoned the pretense of civility and became wild.
I grunted and gasped unembarrassed — wordless emissions of emotion and exertion.
My fur clung to my flattened ears.
My snout elongated, my paws thickened.
Black nails tore through clay and sod.
I eviscerated the belly of each bed
sculpting openings large enough
to swallow the root ball of a sapling.
The birds fled but the insects remained.
Attracted to my heat and sweat
and the drumbeat of blood pounding out primeval chants
through the thrumming cords of my mammalian veins
they formed a living cloud
around the mountain of my back.
On my knees, I dug with one purpose,
like a badger, like a wolf.
My hide and limbs became caked.
Who would have known me thusly changed?
Then,
it rained.
Lightly first,
little misty kisses from the face of a cool front
changing into the passionate licks of
a monsoon
painting slimy streaks of bronze, brick, and umber across my soiled pelt.
How good it felt, the rain.
I clawed through my denim hide, muddied beyond recognition
Then the cotton casing, wet and black
I stripped completely to expose my human skin.
I spun and twirled to the ricochet of thunder
booming through the valley,
slinging water droplets like magic fire from my fingertips.
I skipped and splashed because at that moment,
I wanted to.
The growling within me recedes with the grime I’ve shed;
collecting in polluted puddles about my pink toes.
We are all animals and children masquerading as something else.
For now, I have evolved back into a maiden
under the comforting strokes
of the soft fingers of a warm summer rain.
***
Heidi Dare is a female homo sapiens, a Tim Burton princess with a Jane Austen soul, and a sparkling land-mermaid with a penchant for mischief. She was infected with both sadness and silliness as a small child, and has never recovered from either. She is sometimes anxious, and always thinking. Heidi can often be found peeking out of the windows of her white cottage, or cackling at high volumes at the local coffee shop with friends and strangers alike. A former All-American, she still runs when she feels like it, or if the weather is right, or if her pants start to feel too small. Heidi’s soul is an unusual mix of romance, melancholy, hilarity, and science. Her current creative projects include an anthology of poetry and a novelette. To taste more of her personality and poetry, please find her at Vintage Hipsy and phoetryandprose.
***
{Join us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest}
Comments
Latest posts by Rebelle Society (see all)
- Cemetery of Tears. - November 5, 2024
- My Identity Journey: What’s in a Name? - November 5, 2024
- Cyprus: A Magic Place That Feels Like Home. - November 5, 2024