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RAIN
Our
oldest, favorite sound
speaks in many voices:
the rattle on tin gutters,
the dull roar on the roof,
the ploppity plop on glazed leaves,
the patter of drops in puddles,
the splatter on asphalt streets--
the plic-plokking on automobile roofs.
These myriad voices seem to say:
I bring relief to the thirsty earth,
that essential part of our holy trinity--
the rain, the sun, and the soil--
giving the ultimate transfusion,
the water and blood of all living things,
carrying nutrients into green veins and red veins.
While we lie abed in darkness, it also seems to say,
rest reassured, renewed by the great continuance,
as you listen to the glad sounds and in your core feel
the same tranquil calm early man once felt as he listened
to rain dripping from the mouth of his dark cave.
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