Secretion

I begin by sitting on the porch, cross legged. I place my hands together, but I cant find my heart. Rain clouds the natural sounds of the night and I am floudering.

After some time, my vision begins to blur. The shape of trees turn to suggestion. One cricket close to my right chirps steadily outside the downpour. I begin to count with each chirp. Twenty-two is the number I reach before I lose myself. A woman screaming in the dark. I run after her - my bare feet sloshing in the rain. Then I surface to a boom. I call the “secretion” quietly. As thunder passes, the cricket returns.

endless waves
peaks blossom
at their height

I wrote this a year ago, almost to the day. I have revised it, removing quite a few giant words I think misrepresent the tone of my experience. Thanks for reading.