One Rain, One Rhythm

 

You called me the melody,

yet it was your quiet shore that gave my wild notes a place to land.

I sang to the clouds, yes,

but only because I felt your silence listening.

You were a steady vessel,

holding every fragile line before it fell to pieces.

If I was the song, you were the air that carried it;

if I was the storm, you were the earth below.

You drank the heavy skies

without asking for a single drop in return.

You speak of the rain bird waiting for the storm,

but forget that even the bird looks for a twin.

Without your wings beside me,

the sky is only endless altitude, cold and pathless.

I did not teach the tide to rise-

it was your unseen gravity that pulled the deep out of me.

I did not become the storm alone;

it was your emptiness that called the water down.

Do not call yourself merely the wind beneath my flight,

or the silence between my notes.

You are the tonic key

on which the whole symphony rests.

If my voice trembled,

it was only resolving back to your root.

If I circle the sky,

it is because home is where our wings touch the same air.

Let the world count losses and gains;

we know the true path of the river.

It does not surrender to the ocean-

it simply recognizes what it has always been.

Keep singing your silence into mine,

and I will keep casting my song into yours.

One cloud, one rain, one rhythm-

answering itself forever.