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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476600" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Gray Rain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gray rain <br>but the trees <br>are teaching the stars how to break into leaves. <br>Good rain on the good earth. <br>Autumn's a long passage.<br>Spring is full of thresholds.<br>Rainbow bridges in the distance <br>over urgent streams. <br>Everything's in a rush to become something. <br>I thought I knew once <br>who I was supposed to be <br>but more and more it eludes me<br>like a future that's already behind me. <br>I leave it to the world <br>to finish what I began<br>and include myself in the mystery <br>and try to carry on like a man <br>who looks at a star he won't follow <br>through the branches of the burgeoning trees <br>as the history of who I am<br>now that I'm not anymore.<br>The less I am the more there is to be. <br>And one eye doesn't get in the way of the other as much. <br>There is just this as it is <br>and what am I beholding <br>if I'm not looking upon myself as I am <br>in common with everything <br>that's changing all around me <br>like a mind that can't contain itself <br>in any fixed mode of being<br>anymore than the eye <br>can decide what it's seeing. <br>Everything is burning with life in the rain <br>and change is the dangerous bliss<br>we feel when we cease to exist. <br>The trees might have fingerprints <br>graven into their bark <br>and you might accord them <br>an identity in the dark <br>and approve of their names <br>and let them pass as if you knew who they were<br>but that doesn't make them <br>any less of a stranger than you are <br>or the clouds carry passports. <br>Praise be to the abundance of oblivion <br>and the cornucopias of blackholes <br>in the hearts of the galaxies <br>that keep wounding themselves into life <br>by falling on their own swords <br>like a knife that heals. <br>By day the light gives. <br>But at night <br>it steals. <br>And the mirror lives <br>and pours water over the eyes of the blind <br>and suddenly the stars can see again.<br>And the grape hyacinth is drunk on blue wine. <br>And I'm walking on water on the moon <br>even as the moon walks on my tears<br>without knowing which ones <br>flowed from the bells of my sorrows <br>and which overwhelmed me<br>like birds in the fountains of joy.<br>First I am a man. <br>And then I am a boy. <br>Spring takes itself for granted. <br>And autumn comes on with regrets. <br>But they both know <br>this is as good as it gets<br>and nothing's missing <br>in the mind's lost and found.<br>It's just the way things get around <br>when you throw the world back in the water <br>like a life of your own <br>you gave up years ago <br>to be who you are now. <br>Praise be to the stars <br>that stop by the gate this late <br>to chat about gardens<br>and how to keep <br>the roots of the roses alive <br>when the ground hardens.<br>Even if you're a demon in steep descent<br>or an angel rising from hell <br>life has the power of a flower<br>and the genius of a universe <br>to turn falling into a calling<br>like planets and Canada geese. <br>You can walk out alone <br>into a wide open field at night like I do <br>and stand there under the stars <br>that have been staring at you since childhood <br>like someone they should keep an eye on<br>and say: This is me. This is who I am as I am <br>to the whole twinkling lot of them in self-defence<br>to uphold the savage dignity of the difference.<br>You can stand there in the vastness <br>of that one definitive thought<br>that goes on forever like a silence older than birds <br>and feel the sweet release of upending joy <br>trying to master its new freedom<br>when space morphs into a mouth for a moment<br>and says softly<br>o so softly <br>in a voice that's been singed by compassion: <br>No.<br>You're not.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476600" data-title="Gray Rain de Patrick White" data-description="Gray rain 
but the trees 
are teaching the stars how to break into leaves. 
Good rain on the good earth. 
Autumn's a long passage.
Spring is full of thresholds.
Rainbow bridges in the distance 
over urgent streams. 
Everything's in a rush to becom..."></div>
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