Date: Fri, 15 Dec 1995 20:15:43 -0500 (EST)
From: Karolyn R Benger 

                               FALLING RAIN 
        The rain falls from the grey sky and becomes one with the lake and
my tears.  I watch the drops fall from the bleakness above and spiral
their way down to the murky depths of the lake, which rises with each drop
to kiss the falling rain.  It's cold here as I stand at the crossroads,
uncertain which way to move.  I think to past events, situations that left
me the way I am today.  In my hands is a notebook- soul stories are
permanently marked there in black ink. 
        I wrote of you, I wrote of our love and then I wrote of your
betrayal.  I've long since stopped reading the lamentation's of my heart;
now my mind takes control.  I think of you. 
        Here I stand and mourn a love long dead while you are off
somewhere chasing a dream, a love you've always wanted with her but will
never have.  She has tormented you for years with her promises of love and
once you get close she spurns you and runs away.  I watch you chase your
impossible dream while I remain rooted to the past thinking about mine. 
So I stand here fixed to my memories, while forge ahead- a soldier with
your noble cause. 
        I try to block these thoughts from my ever wondering mind.  I
create a dam against the well of emotions that has begun to flow over me. 
I used to simply ride the waves of memories mingled with pain, yet this
approach no longer works.  I began to drowned in the puddle of pain
created by you.  So I stand here and watch the rain- my only companion. I
see her fall from the bitter, unfriendly, grey sky.  I watch her plunge
down to her demise; unable to accept the rejection from her partner, the
heavens.  The cold, hurt, lonely rain understands me.  We can relate to
each other.  We are both plummeting from a banishment of someone closer to
us than our souls. 
        To my left lies the shelter of the trees offering comfort from the
wind and rain, but I refuse.  I don't deserve their comfort no matter how
much I want it.  As long as I continue to degrade myself by thinking of
you, of us, I am unfit to join the trees, to feel the comfort.  So I stand
here at the crossroads.  In a few moments the cold will be inside me and I
won't feel it anymore.  Yet the warm circle of trees will taunt me in my
state of numb coldness. 
        I turn my head, I see the path joining the crossing, daring me to
move toward it, to move ahead.  I take a step but it calls my bluff.  It
looks me in the eye and laughs at my attempts to go on, to take that one
step forward.  So I stay at the junction.  I am too tormented to walk
along the rising path, to be exposed to people.  I do not want to be
exposed again.  I want to be alone with my tears, the lake, and the rain
yet at the same time I want companionship.  I am uncertain as to how I
feel and which road to take.  I look back to the path, still challenging
me.  I look to the trees- welcoming me.  Yet I stand still at the
intersection where both places meet. 
        Uncertain as I am I enjoy the crossroads, a circular patch of land
that connects the roads of the path and trees.  It is close to the lake- I
feel connected to her- yet far enough away to keep me feeling distant. 
Not being part of the lake's beauty I watch her.  I see how she harbors
the fallen rain, how she comforts it after its long, depressing journey. 
I want to be joined with her, part of me feels as if I am already.  Yet I
know I am not.  I am alone.  I see my close friend, the rain, feel the
solace offered by the lake.  I watch as she accepts the compassion that is
so freely given.  I envy her.  I am jealous of the warmth I know they
share behind the deceitful mask of grey.  I want to join them.  I want to
be one with their pain.  Yet I am afraid.  I choose to be alone, scarred
of another rejection.  I long to join my companions but in my state of
insecurity I find myself unable, or maybe unwilling, to move. 
        Alone I am content to stare ahead.  Mesmerized by the falling
water swallowed by the lake.  Your betrayal shrouded my future and
denigrated our past.  Time stands still as people passing look at me, as
if in a vacume, mummified I withstand their eyes, their sharp stares.  Yet
in my present state the sting of their eyes has been blunted.  I feel a
shudder and I realize I have been shaking from the cold although I hadn't
noticed.  With a sigh I turn away from the lake.  I have yet to choose
which road to take.  Maybe another day, for now I belong at the
crossroads; amidst the falling rain. 
                                                -Karolyn Benger