|Musician in the Rain by Robert Doisneau|
When the low and dark clouds roll in,
instinct says: batten down the hatches.
Practicality rises from hidden places
to the surface. We turn from our art
and choose, instead, to collect water,
gather batteries, buy bread. It feels like
self-preservation, prioritization; I know,
but I know, too: we slay much more
than frivolity with our frenetic energy.
I'm asking you to stand still with me:
to wait while I create in this falling rain.
(Hold open your umbrella over my art;
let your hand hover just over my heart.)
**Linking with the communities of The Mag and Poetry Jam