When I was little I fell asleep to the sound of rain drops hitting newspapers
Allowing ink to seep through sagging rafters
And fall drip by drip onto my face
This is my first taste of language
It wasn’t through resonating vocal cords
Or lead pencil stencils
But from rain cloud, a 3 day old newspaper and the cardboard walls that held them up
And I laid there looking through this weeks latest picture of war
Seeing clouds drift past scribbled on with symbols that meant nothing to me
But the steady sound of words shattering across my forehead
Staining my hair in black left over residue from dying descriptions
Listening to the skies booming voice teaching me each symbol with flashing lights
This was the first time I saw god
The second well that didn’t involve words but syllables
Moaning the letters a and o
I learned both that first day
But I couldn’t grasp their full purpose
As I laid there staring up through clouds and stars and truth
Or maybe something like it
cause every generations seems to have to re label that shit
And I can’t figure out what’s fact or fiction anymore
But it doesn’t matter cause I know what is real
And what I saw was life
Streaming out words in all languages saying things like
Tomorrow is a new day and it’s bringing the ladder
Pumping out sweet moments that build the foundation of heartache
Creating great deeds and the men they come to be associated with
This is creation
Words streaming from the inside out
Built upon a single moment
When darkness became self aware
Instantly decided it was lonely
And bang
Lights flash and the fabric begins
Flung out over a million billion years until it came back to me
A simple story written down in rain cloud
An explanation of why
Scratched down in the sky with star dust
Trying to Tell it all to a 5 year old
Wide eyes open looking up
Reading off hidden bible verses revealed only by rain
Fused to the spot even though mom says to come in
This
Is the first time I felt clean
Staring back at god
listening to words I had no hope to understand
but still I laid
Ears pointed up
goofy grin that stretched miles
and hands pinned to my sides just listening
Being taught my first language
Each and every nuance
Being stunned with each word
Repeating them softly under my breath
Too ashamed to speak
Because I still have an accent
But I don’t need to say anything anyways
Cause my native tongue is simple
It’s faith
