Poem-A-Day: Day 253

Silence and Raindrops

as I sit quietly at a desk
listening to the sound of rain
clamoring, and dancing
on the roof above my head
a picture of a mustachioed gent
yells silent wonders into a microphone.

I try and understand what he’s saying,
but the silence of his voice
is muffled even more
by the constant of the rain.

It’s hard to ignore the rain
among all the other silences,
the whisper of the computer,
the dull hum of the air conditioning;
all this blissful silence, yet,
somehow the rain is far more energetic than I.