Falling Waters

I'm not sure about this one. It's odd, and may need to be rewritten. But it's all I've got for tonight. So here it is...

The rain pours down all around me and over me

Like drizzles from a coffee pot that never finishes perking.

Snuggled in my house with every incandescent light on fire,

Fortified against the winter darkness,

I allow the simple noise to blanket me.

My life has been like the running water.

It drizzles slowly at times and puddles along.

Slogged in mud, I wonder if I will ever gain momentum.

Later, I am sheets of rain falling,

And terrible winds knock me all about.

Shaken, and confused, I look for a surface to still me,

A tin roof maybe, or a coat to soak into,

Just so I can have a bit of peace.

Like the running water moving from sky to ground to stream,

And flying back again in the great circle,

I am caught in a circle until the day I die.

But perhaps, and this is my great hope,

Perhaps as I run from here to there, I change my nature.

Unlike the water, I can remember and choose,

And at the final day, when I flow out to sea,

I hope I may be a better, wiser drop of water.