falling rain

i heard it faintly in the wind, the way you used say my name. have you whispered it lately. i shall believe not, for once i was called fickle i protested not, even though it hurt the very core of me when you said it for at that moment you knew me not. I now understand the little pieces that come to me when-you spoke to me it was as if you were speaking to yourself, for dear man you are fickle, my mistake is that there was no face to my love just one that was made out trees, falling rain and birds that sang beautifully, i have not lost those things, they exist always in me, for me, never ending is the chapter that i wrote with my pen and invisible ink..