© Vivianne LaRiviere

It was a simple day, with simple rain.
Spring. Easter. Light.
Believers and non, for dinner.
Called.
Light. Rain. Easter.
I stared at you for a long time, through the window.
Light Rain. Easter.
I still don’t understand how you are able to fashion the voice of the heart – on the inside.
I still don’t understand what compels wordless and breathless beauty.
And I may never. Silence.
And yet, morning comes and there is light, rain, and Easter.
Risen against your window.
I see you with my own eyes.
I heard your footsteps against the window.
This spring, this Easter, this rain, this light.
Oh – we wonder – and what has risen?
Simple days, simple rains,
This Spring, Easter, Light.