To those who can’t stand
the rain:
let it flow
and move mountains.
cry me a spout
for watered mustard seeds
to sprout from well-tended
gardens of grief,
eroding rocks, making hard
places bend to the will
of irrigated tear ducts.
cry me a mountain range
so i can measure variations
in river steepness and rainfall
and calculate the pain
carved in your rugged terrain.
do not blame yourself.
fault the tectonics that try
to shame your way of weathering
and take credit for relief.
there is no relief without release,
says science.
so cry me a new topography
with contours that naturally defy
convention and gravity in the same weep.
let it flow
let it flow
let it flow
from mountains high to valleys low
let us make a new earth.