Rain on the Skylight

Rain on the Skylight

It’s weird, lying here, looking up

Rain dropping from thousands of feet above me;

Pelting down, reaching terminal velocity

Splattering against the plexiglass a few feet from my face.

I wish all roofs were clear and you could see

Through and straight on up into the sky.

Skylights are stingy and even on a clear day or night

They only grant your eyes a narrow view of heaven.

By day the shafts of sunlight in neat rectangles

Track across the carpet, reminding me,

That time is passing and I should be

Out the kitchen door to join the open spaces.

At night, I have to shift myself about the darkened room

To keep my eye upon the scarred moon’s face as it sails by overhead,

Peering down through the plastic as it passes, yet,

Ignoring me altogether, accompanied by the stars.

Because I cannot live outside these days,

I must content myself with my little windows

And the narrow piece of sky it grants to me for comfort
And the wider peace of heart it nurtures in my soul.

© 2016 by Tom King