I like these high waters,
their roar a herald of once-lost causes;
love the way clear eyes
can look through the lashing rain
to see the dry light of tomorrow beyond.

Even drowning would be better
than turning to each other
and saying, “We’d better go inside.
Better wait out the storms
and let them wash themselves out.”

So…Here is the rain;  beyond it,
the new day. For now I’ll stand
cold and wait for a moment,
let the rain let up a bit. Beyond
that is all I have to live for.