Rain has been pouring, showering,
Gushing and sprinkling all day.
Until today, there had been only
The memory of rain. The dry, sandy
Soil had become crusty and sad.
At first the rain pounded.
It threatened to burst through
Sheltering walls or smash through
Then, it dropped back to a steady
Pour, drizzling — as they say —
In a way that makes the tired sleep
And the impassioned come alive.
Finally, I could no longer hear it,
So I opened the door and invited
It in. When it would not come, I
Ventured into the newly drenched
~ spontaneously created by Stan Stewart
~ copyright © 2013 by muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.