Every month SuperForester Jordan “rediscovers” a literary gem from the vast treasure trove of an art form that, in our technological age, has become largely under-appreciated and “lost”.
When asked what a “good poem” was , Poet Robert Creeley once wrote that it is:
“that place we are finally safe in… where understanding is not a requirement. You don’t have to know why. Being there is the one requirement.”
With that simple and beautiful introduction, I give you “The Rain”:
THE RAIN
All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.
What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it
that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me
something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.
Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out
of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.
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