Windowpane Drops of Rain

 

Years and years ago when Holly and Johs,

Britta’s and my two children, were small

And filled with skips and hops, we’d take

Them for walks around a Danish lake,

Taking breaks on benches where I’d tell them

Of the adventures of two drops of water

Named Hydro and Oxo, the best of best

Of friends living together in the lake.

 

One or the other would one fine day drift

Up close to the lake’s surface and be borne

Aloft by the sun’s warmth into the clouds

To be carried whichever way the breeze blew,

So that Hydro got to be for a week a silent

Snowflake on top of Mount Kilimanjaro,

And Oxo not only got to visit but also got

To be part of the thunder of Niagara Falls.

 

After which each adventurer rode another

Warm updraft, now homeward bound,

Dropping as a diamond of morning dew

Into that good old Danish lake, and hollering

“Oh my friend, guess where I have been?”

The other replying, “I have missed you!

Come and sit in the shade under this lily pad

And tell me every single little thing about it!”

 

A month ago today, the news of this wedding

Just arrived, I, aglow and glad of heart, sat

Watching on my west window a fine mist

Gathering into two water drops, spaced apart.

Of course I thought of Hydro and Oxo, but in

Our stories one was always back at the lake.

I watched the two drops gradually swelling, gravity

Pulled in short zigs and zags toward each other.

 

To my Father-of-the-Bride eyes, my window had

Become continental glass, the drop beginning over on

The California coast I knew to be our Ryan, the other,

Our Holly, beginning in a New Hampshire college town.

I saw them slip, glide, dip, slide, bump into each other,

Become one, become the headwaters of their own

Mississippi, begin the great adventure of their lives,

Going to meet Hydro or Oxo down in New Orleans.

No comments:

Post a Comment