The NaPoWriMo.net page prompted us to write a poem about how two or three different things might perceive a blessing. Or how they could think about something else.
Since I seldom use the words blessing or blessed, I pondered things to poetically opine such as luck, grief, happiness, politics, God, love, power, rain, poetry, sleep, or sex. Since the prompt has this option, that’s for me. I pulled rain from the sky.
When Rain
When the old man heard rain,
he smiled, looked out of
the window and said to his Chihuahua,
“You know, Thunder, Updike wrote:
Rain is grace—without rain,
there’d be no life. I am still life.”
And out into the warm summer rain he went.
In the trees the birds huddled together
as the rain caused seeds to fall,
worms to surface, and the raindrops
puddled before it paused. Soon
they could dine and bathe.
In the earth the soil spread out
and teemed with life as all bits of
Nature was graced with
musical raindrops descending
washing off the old man’s
smiling face.
The fish were amused.
Look both ways with gratitude for rain and shine.
Mind the gaps as they fill with water and air fills with the petrichor of life.
Our Literary Journey 
Delightful… happy writing
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I love this, Bill; a beautiful poem. It brings out the pluviophile in you and makes it shine 🙂
Summer rain is a wonderful thing. I cannot wait to meander in it myself.
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Thank you, Dale.
In the mid- and southwest, rain usually has lots of thunder and lightning–and may have hail and be tornadic. So, I pick my rainy days. 🙂
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I do love thunder and lightening storms, though. I miss having my porch with the roof tha allowed me to sit out and not get soaked.
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🙂 Up east, yes. Down here, maybe.
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I had one for many years. Sigh. One day, maybe again 🙂
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🙂
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A rather splendid offering Bill!
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Thank you, Peter. 🙂
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