Praying for Rain (Again)

I turn myself in-

to a rainstick; shake myself

at the white hot sky.


1 Comment

  1. Comrade Kevin

    After Long Drought

    After long drought, commotion in the sky;
    After dead silence, thunder. Then it comes,
    The rain. It slashes leaves, and doubly drums
    On tin and shingle; beats and bends awry
    The flower heads; puddles dust, and with a sigh
    Like love sinks into grasses, where it hums
    As bees did once, among chrysanthemums
    And asters when the summer thought to die.

    The whole world dreamed of this, and has it now.
    Nor was the waking easy. The dull root
    Is jealous of its death; the sleepy brow
    Smiles in its slumber; and a heart can fear
    The very flood it longed for, roaring near.
    The spirit best remembers being mute.

    -Mark van Doren

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