Fluid

Poured off of gutters
ruts and rooftiles
into guitared experience.
We all want explanations.
Reveling in rain, it purifies.
I am left to dry
with time.
Presented with gifts,
something else inside of me
flies out.
I cannot contain what my fingers
put on paper
dreams.
A line quickly divides with motion,
emotion,
electrified
centrified
terrified
of things to come.
The rain ceases
and I, from this distance,
am dry.
This frenzy overcomes us all,
distracting our waters
paths and goals
into a candle
burned with intent.
The evening settles
with slight intonation.
Into gear
far far
near,
closes the rain
into my existence.
Being is truth
on a fresh cut lawn.
Faded
American flag lawn.