Sisi IN THE RAIN by Grace Sharra

Guest Writer's Profile:

Name: Grace Athauye Sharra

PenName: Grace Sharra

Genre: Poems

Profession: Secondary School teacher

Location: Bunda-Lilongwe, Malawi

Sisi IN THE RAIN

Sisi loved the lustrous lick of the rain onto her skin

She loved dancing with arms flung about her hugging the raindrops and claiming them for her own.

Sisi had a bubbly laugh that rippled with irrepressible joy in the rain

Her feet would go pata-pata-pata-pata to a rhythm deep in the rain and her soul.

Sisi said the sound of the rain could felt in the bones

that rain was a communion, sacred and gods.

Sisi made me pick out different melodies of the rain

and so I loved me a good downpour on a quiet day

discovered a sleep formulae in its soothing songs.

While just outside Sisi hailed and claimed the raindrops and let them lick her clean.

She said she felt our ancestors in the rain

and I beloved when we finally went we too would return as rain.

Sisi wanted to go on a day full of grey and mist;

She'd live to old age, sin and offend the sense and sensibility of many then on her deathbed ask for her last sacrament for redemption

then she'd go and dance in the rain forever.

Well, Sisi never lived long; the last sacrament stormed upon her

and there was no rain the day we buried her

Buy the skies opened up barely a week later retching up napoli angry enough to drown Noah's ark

And something in me broke because I couldn't hear Sisi's voice in the water monster

There were no pata-pata-pata-pata of 'happy feet in the watery ghostly march

And in my bed all I could think of was Sisi lying forlorn and forsaken in some uncleared bush

her feet frozen forever, her body afloat in all that water

And there was no beauty at all, the rain was always cold and ugly

I never slept comfortably again in the rain.

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