Rainy Days and Lonely Nights

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

I used to love the sound of rain in the morning. It invigorates the stirring soul and revitalizes the colors and the fragrance of the awakening day

RAINY DAYS AND LONELY NIGHTS

By Al Garcia

I used to love the sound of rain in the morning.  It invigorates the stirring soul and revitalizes the colors and the fragrance of the awakening day. 

I remember the first morning rain in Vietnam.  Awakening from a restless sleep, I heard the sound that used to stir a sense of awe in me.  But now I only heard the sound of raindrops on the metal roof -- loud and cold and strange.  No longer soothing or comforting to my restless soul and wondering mind.

How strange that such a natural, simple thing as rain could change so much and sound and feel so unlike the wet sunshine on a cloudy day that once roused my spirit and fueled the budding and emerging day.

In Vietnam, the rain made the dark feel colder, lonelier and sadder.  And it made me feel smaller, vulnerable and exposed.  I used to feel the beauty of the rain and sense its silvery translucent energy.  But now it just felt cold and wet and threatening.

And I remember that first morning rain in Vietnam as I laid awake in my bunk, lonely and dejected.  For lonely soldiers far from home, rain is a chance to be touched again by memories and by feelings that can restore the beauty and the passion that used to be, if only for a brief moment of escape from the reality of war.  And I closed my eyes and heard the sound of raindrops.  And I was home again.  I was safe again.  I could feel the rain again. 

So many rainy days and lonely nights followed that first sound of rain I heard in Vietnam.  Too many cold and wet and threatening days, and endless lonely nights.  I lost count of the sleepless nights and tried to shroud the sound of the falling rain with the sound of my beating heart and the fading memories of life as it used to be.

When I returned from Vietnam, I was no longer the boy I used to be.  I realized I had become a man when the first rain came when I was home again.  This time, however, I could no longer feel the rain as once I had.  I was home again, and yet, now the rain felt cold and wet and threatening.

When will someone stop the rain, and the feelings and memories that never seem to go away?  Rainy days and lonely nights now come too often and last too long.


Submitted: May 25, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

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