The Sound of Rain
On the strange way time stretches and compresses — and the storms that briefly make you forget there was anything else.
Some weeks feel like decades. Some decades feel like weeks. The poem doesn’t try to explain this — just to sit inside it.
Every day that goes by
Feels like the slowest
And fastest day I’ve ever had
It’s as if last week
I had a different life
With different people
It’s like when there’s a storm
And for a short while, all there ever was, or existed
Was the sound of rain
The mind doesn’t actually keep linear time. It keeps emotional time, weather time, person time. The storms compress everything else out of the room until only the rain is left. That’s a small mercy. The rest of the world gets to be quiet for a minute.
— JTC