Monday, July 25, 2011

Summer Rain


  She awakened 
to a faint papery patter 
upon  the withered Wisteria.
She was not sure.

Lying perfectly still, 
wide-eyed and listening, 
she breathed the mantra:
 Oh God...
 Oh God...
please let it be rain!

A spangled night sky, 
  the air over warm,
honeyed with moisture;
  heat weary crickets 
crouched in the dust,
sang final song, final verse.

The storm stood off,
hesitant yet full of light,
and the girl,
 desperate with longing,
flew down the garden paths,
 turning  every faucet to full!

Like called to like,
  the clouds opened,
 letting fall their treasure,
streaking the darkness
with lines silvered with moonlight.

The cricket brightened 
 as in the ancient dance of praise,
 she embraced the miracle,
answer to a thousand prayers:
the water of life.
Thanks be to God!





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