The Rains Came
The Rains Came
Rain, when at last it comes to this arid land—
such sweet smelling moisture of delight
touches the earth with gentle urging,
to fill the many thirsty streambeds
in my beloved mountains.
The brown and parched
soon to be green and red,
blue and yellow—
the colors that await me
when I walk those paths again.
Seeds, now dormant in the rocky soil
heed the message that moisture brings
so that my eyes can feast once more
on colors now hidden from my sight.
Wild flowers
awaiting my return
to familiar places.
Gentle rain
touching with reverence
upon the cliffs
where ancients drew pictures of the hunt
and where Shamanic wisdom
reveals the origin of your life and mine.
Who are we to disbelieve
when the rain falls gently from the clouds,
when seeds germinate in silence and the dark
preparing as always for the show.
Soon, I will return
to those peaceful pockets of self identity
found nowhere else
but in a raindrop.
Vi Jones
©June 27, 2006
posted by Vi Jones @ 8:15 AM
4 comments
The 
4 Comments:
I can see the colors and smell the rain..
An amazing picture of alchemical transformation of the sort that often goes unnoticed. Bravo V!
I agree with Heather. Vi, you have a fine eye for detail.
Thank you all so much for your comments. Rain is like a tonic, it fills me with energy, so much so that I want to go outside and dance with the raindrops.
Vi
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