tapping drumbeats on back step,
splashing within the hedge,
swaying in the grey mane sky.
A river is falling out of space and time,
into my mind, a hundred recollections
come with the rain.
steel clock on the roof of the rusty pickup,
curving off of the greenhouse beside my mother's garden,
rivulets spun from the Redwoods racing up the windshield,
a circlet on my hat while splitting wood in Autumn,
padding off the kayak's deck as we crossed into the island light...
Every time it rains it is the first time.
Today the downspout gurgles in cadence with the Raven's song.
And memory is added into memory.
Today, I'm grateful for the rain, how the earth opens her face up to the gentle storm, how these cloud banks were born off the coast of Oahu and Maui, how they traveled all the way to this farm, how the sky releases it's shiny collection of dew and whale song into our garden.
Praise the earth.
Praise the sky.
Praise the rain.
Praise rain's memory of ten thousand days.
Praise the green that is sure to come.
Praise the falling song of the sea.
Praise the cadence
that awakens the dreamer from her sleep.
Song of the storm be yours.
Crown of dew be yours.
Memory of earth be yours.
(c) 2009, Richard Sievers, All Rights Reserved