Summer rain

The sky is talking
opening in peals of light and sound
rain comes like a blessing
earlier, claustrophobic sticky heat pressing down on sweat-slick skin
that crackles to the touch
gardens launguish, flaccid in this sauna of oppression under a colorless sky
Then, without warning, the heavens open wide
mist rises from the fields
fat cool droplets fall
steam rises from my skin
as I shed my clothes and dance with the land



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Like the tides, I find myself at your command.
Energy rising, spilling over, pulling me under
sometimes drowning as it all washes over me,
and then suddenly breaking surface to see
your shining face watching
I am captive to your whims
drawn into your cycle
spinning me round
waves break, energy ebbs
and flows again

In the woods

We walk through the woods after the storm. Fresh rays of sunlight filter through the trees and illuminate thousands of shimmering water droplets that glisten on our skin and on trembling leaves.  The trees stand like guardians of this place, singing softly to the rhythm of newly fallen rain.


Under the brightness of an unbearably blue sky, against the ebb and flow of time, I sit enjoying a cup of coffee on my front porch. I know I should be getting more done, but I have succumbed to the temptation of the first whisper of spring.

Earlier,  I braved the woods with their slick paths of melting ice, my dogs dancing in the liquid sunshine. Although the Land still sleeps, I can feel the seeds of dreams begining to stir as the Light returns.