It’s been raining here in the East for the last several days. Short showers here and there and then downpours and deluge for a time as weather systems move through the northeast. The ground is saturated and flooding has occurred.
Some friends have complained about the wet and damp, but I love it. Watching it rain from the comfort of a dry place encourages an exchange between spirit and mind that is missing when the outdoors beckons with the freedom of sunlit choice.
For me rain has always awakened the Muse. This one called Window Rain comes from my book, Quiet Musings.
Racing, chasing down the pane,
Drops that started out as rain,
Some are fast and others slow,
Nervous sliding to below.
Stopping, starting, this way that,
Changing by another’s splat,
Lenses into nature’s gray
Help define the type of day.
Streaking, leaking, lines of wet,
Never staying never set,
Trace their path before it’s dry
To see a water butterfly.
No singing song of “go away,”
I truly want the rain to stay.
I miss it when it is not here,
To make my glass a chandelier.
2 comments:
What a lovely poem Rolland. It's wonder full to hear others celebrate rain's dance.
Farrah Fawcett, in her recent and moving documentary..."On a Wing and a a Prayer", spoke eloquently about the soothing and cleansing rain. She said she would so miss the rain and prayed for heaven to continue to allow her to experience the rain.
Bless rain, Bless Farrah, your courageous nephew,his family and yours and Terry Lipman's spirit and family.
Bless you and your grace full way Rolland.
Peace and gratitude,
Cathy Meadows,
Victoria, BC, Canada
That was a most excellent observation of the rain. Rain, like time, is precious. We either get too much or not enough. Take Care and keep up the inspirational postings and poetry.
Post a Comment