Posted in Outback, Poetry

The Kajabbi Raindrop

When clouds build as the day grow long      
and the morning sky of blue is gone,
glass bottom clouds turned darkest gray
top-most silver peaks have fade away
and hiding where the sun can’t play


When the last of silver pinnacles have sheltered from the sun
when breeze moves in and distant groans begun.
It’s time to turn and face the evaporating blow
and tastes the essence of every life and plant that grow
Each and every sense dissolved into a single aromatic show.

Now is time to taste and savor every creature, outcrop, trees and all
embrace the plants and shrubs exploding at the approaching fall
and always room to track and follow as rain clouds weave toward
in space as open as the sky . . The wettest raindrops in the world.

I wrote this poem several years ago  when the earliest forewarning of the incoming storm  cut the power off  .   .   I sat dry under the Veranda of The Kalkadoon Hotel and penciled my thought on some paper.


I have always had a wonderful memory. when I say “wonderful memory” what I really mean is that I rarely if ever recall horrible things like the weather. I never recall cold or frosty mornings, or even 24 hours of anything dull or boring that might have happened before or after a memorable event, the happy result being all my life's memories are wonderful. Peculiar as it may sound to anyone who might be reading this, I have absolutely marvelous memories that range from breaking one or more of my bones to hanging upside down from an upper branch of an Oak tree with my ankle wedged between two branches. I have heard stories about people that have totally removed from their recollection painful events that had previously occurred in their life. I can believe this because at this precise moment I can recall nothing that was not absolutely wonderful. If by chance I have ever blocked out anything painful I would consider this possibility to be just another wonderful thing. I intend to Blog about my friends and memories on these pages.

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