Rain

     I am sitting in the sticky, hot shop with the fan whirling slowly because it rocks the roof if it goes too fast, and I am thinking about rain. Wet. Cool. Earthy rain. I long for the rains to come back to us and quench fires and service our lawns and hedges and dark forests and marshes and sadly empty ponds. It rained for the first time in a long time, at our house, last week. It was wonderful. I sat on the front porch until I was soggy before going inside for a warm shower and pajamas. It was refreshing, and I thought about nature's songs. I wrote this:

First Rain

Underfoot parched earth cracks
as grass shrivels,
and the roots of the trees
draw up what drops remain.

As spring fights to bloom
drought offers doom,
then heaven's doors open up-
and down flows rain.

And the green trees shout hallelujah
as the grasses sing praises to his name!
As the rains pour down,
God's love strikes the ground,
bubbling brooks, overflowing
quench the flame.

It's going to rain again this week. I just know it. Thank you, God, for the rain.

Peace. Love, Linda