A taste of rain tinkling in the downspout
too light to hear upon the metal roof,
yet under this common wet covering

her scent mends everything
for the moment, for another beginning
and we inhale it—lungs full of new life.

And when we pray, it’s to the Goddess—
mother, lover—for our sustenance,
for the bloom and fruit of flesh renewed

as the damp earth exhales, breathes easily
to taste each lingering drop
that settles upon its petaled tongue.


11 responses to “TRACE

  1. Very nice, John. Love that last image very much.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So loving and lovely. If only we all loved terra mama so deeply.


  3. That wonderful feeling of having finally received some moisture rings through your lovely words.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. You are so in tune, John


  5. There is no talking to “them”.


  6. It’s nice to visit your blog and get to read about rain!


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