it's raining out. very softly. outside the sound of frogs fill the air. i cup my hands to my ears and the sound is almost deafening. the world becomes amplified. even the softest breeze moving through bare branches is heard. but the frogs, they make me feel as though i have been transported into some strange northern jungle.
this is also the time, three years ago, that i fell in love with my husband. these night sounds and flashes of lightening remind me of then-- when this love was strange and new. when i slept out on the porch in a sleeping bag night after night writing poems, trying to find my footing as i swam in a vast, subterranean ocean, the sky, the water, pulsating without pause. now i love him in the same way, but deeper. it's strange the way time moves. how things change, yet stay the same.
at the moment i should be sleeping but instead find myself oddly attracted to the recurrence of spring... of it's darkness and mystery. outside birds are sleeping and buds unfurling. rain has a way of making me feel content. to be quiet and just listen.