rainy season spatters onto big leaves —
like banana leaves
playing the jungle like a white noise orchestra
close your eyes and the wall of sound
drags over your senses
smearing tactile and olfactory experience
into the bombardment
yet the sameness of sounds offers no hold
and so that rain-on-leaf spatter dance
lulls one into a ragged, tattered trance
whether it brings euphoria or dark fears
or jagged agony or inexplicable tears
one can’t know without surrender
energy spills down my back
a liquid, electric energy
the subtle tug can be felt against tiny hairs
if your mind can move at the pace of that subtle tug
and not be sprung like a panther’s lunge
you can find your surrender
By B Gourley in poem, Poetry on April 6, 2018.
