Rain Travel

By W.S. Merwin

I wake in the dark and remember

it is the moring when I must start

by myself on the journey

I lie listening to the black hour

before dawn and you are

still asleep beside me while

around us the trees full of night lean

hushed in their dream that bears

us up asleep and awake then I hear

drops falling one by one into

the sightless leaves and I

do not know when they began but

all at once there is no sound but rain

and the stream below us roaring

away into the rushing darkness