highway flood advisory

sometimes the only purity I know is the rain as I let it fall down slow my face, tranced, cold pinpricks of salvation heavy on my eyelids. the road bounces the light back up, and only God knows my relief seeing the street lights melt and rust against the running water at my feet. if the only prayer I can actualize is the worship of the water in my eyes, and it allows me the grace to outlive maybe I can learn to rest, and forgive the fear I sometimes have on my knees. but still I go home, to bed, to sleep, to dream about far off storming seas and weep