So now it rains, the drops all
Silver with those haunting spaces
between them, just there
and gone.  Now what mystery
can reveal itself in this emptiness?

The instant of time or love
a beating of the heart or throb
of desire?  Or just that perfect
open, odd present that eludes us
when we try too hard?

Now there is not knowing, of course
just taking it easy, Jack, and kicking
back.   Sighting in a rifle.   Changing
the plugs or using the most perfect
brush stroke to show our understanding
of how the water flows, all silver.

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