Today my shower came from the heavens
by Alex Cigale
Lying very still, my ear to the ground,
I can hear voices, what the river said,
water lapping stones: I love you, love you.
Was it just yesterday that I was rain?
What will become of me tomorrow? Lake?
I move a single stone for how many years?
Fricative sibilants of the vast wind,
particles of mist jostling for position.
There would be no hush were it not for the trees.
Round after round the rain rings out its song.
I stay awake all night grateful for the sounds.
Today my shower came from the heavens.
Interesting people we meet along the way and
intersecting with them sense connectedness,
the world a safe place: I feel I belong:
not having, had, or to have; becoming.
Alex Cigale’s poems recently appeared in The Cafe, Colorado, Global City, Green Mountains, and North American reviews, Gargoyle, Hanging Loose, Redactions, Tar River Poetry, 32 Poems, and Zoland Poetry, online in Contrary, Drunken Boat, H_ngm_n, McSweeney’s, and are forthcoming in Many Mountains Moving and St. Petersburg Review. His translations from the Russian can be found in Crossing Centuries: the New Generation in Russian Poetry, in The Manhattan, St. Ann’s, and Yellow Medicine reviews, online in OffCourse, Danse Macabre and Fiera Lingue, and forthcoming in Crab Creek Review and Modern Poetry in Translation. He was born in Chernovsty, Ukraine and lives in New York City.
qarrtsiluni 
There’s a rare tranquil joy and sense of timelessness about this.
Thank you, Lucy.
I love the third stanza for what it does when: Slowing speech on the syllables that crash against each other, saying attend here! Slipping along when the sense and the sounds swoosh by, the scene of a big wind, rain. Lovely.
Yes, coming as it does in the middle, a sort of interlude. Very observant of you, Roberta, though I must say that in the process of composition, this was arrived at by intuition rather than design. Thank you, Roberta.
Thank you for this, Alex.