One Rainin the March/April 2001 Cicada, p.122
by Julie Lamberson
Tonight I walked dark in the rain. I was a bit frightened at first,
but I changed my mind and left my shoes behind
because the sound of them
interrupted the night. I left my eyes too,
since there was nothing to
see except shades of black—parallel tree black and
the long black road
and the indescribable night black sky
which might have been blue.
Without my eyes, I had old talents. I could smell
the moon behind the
clouds. I could touch the cold autumn and count the raindrops.
I could
hear my feet sing on the road smeared wet
as I walked on reflections.
My thoughts danced a strange dance without my sight,
so the rain opened
its dark eyes wide for me. I could have wept,
but everything was right,
so I picked up my shoes. When I found home,
my feet smarted from the
times beforehand when I had not walked dark in the rain.
Thinking about where I could look for Lenten poems, I remembered that one of my WP documents is poems. That's where I found this one. Today was arguably the first "spring" day. (It actually barely rained, but spring makes me think rain, and there was a rain feel to much of the day.) This poem is also in keeping with themes of awareness and openness; and the images of darkness feel appropriate for the Lenten desert days.
Sidenote: I find it interesting that one of my favorite Lenten poems thus far has been one of the ones that has gotten no comments.
