Rain of Poems
Poetry
詩雨
Rain of Poems
When she wrote her name,
she always added extra drops
falling from the cloud.
And when it rained,
she never opened her umbrella,
let the drops soak every last everything,
and felt the ancient oceanic murmurings
rise within her and knew
she had been loved by the cloud.
On those days of rain,
she did not write her name,
for once again she had become the paper
the clouds have written love notes on
since the beginning of falling:
Feathered Colorful Cloud
羽雯
—Ian Boyden
August 24, 2016
Constellations of Humanity
Each luminous dot on this map represents one reader of this poem. As the number of readers increases, the stars begin to cluster and form an increasingly detailed constellation. My intent is to show how brightly a poem glows across our world. I welcome your light.