the language of rain
there was a woman who pronounced herself – I am a multitude.
true said for the many of us here.
rain speaks with many tongues.
where does a circle start. understand.
there’s a trickle coming from the arroyo wall,
climb down from the adobe home, empty plastic
bottles in hand, fill them full, not so light climbing
back up again. yes, respect for water.
fresh running creek from mountain snow,
cold, shining wet, pure enough, cup your hands,
drink. valley walls, hundreds times taller than me.
a long walk, thirsted, water satisfied.
silent white geese gliding down to land,
only the sound of air on feathers, where land is a lake,
come to rest. we say a flock. we say float.
land breathes, deep and shallow, both,
land is filled with rain, resting, like geese I suppose
moving up, rising high, eager for thirst to return.
ocean too, adores gravity, yet loves the sky,
here, my body is given up to you. drink of me.
granting every wish of water circling home again,
rise, fly, soar, swim in heaven’s blue, turning round
like an ocean in the sky.
clouds. more than counting understands.
now rain becomes a bloom on the mountainside.
purpose well spent. circular.
sometimes it’s hard to be small when the world is so big.
thank god, rain speaks to all of us.
image: Please expand this image to it’s very most full size.
More than first meets the casual gaze. Promise. see the people?
photograph of the Sonoran Desert in Southern California by Cindy Knoke
Please visit and follow her website. Cindy is a quietly gifted observer and photographer. She seems able to see and show the nature of nature.
with thanks also to this season’s uncharacteristic generous rains.
image used with her kind permission
wordswerepoemsfirst.com 
I never thought of all the languages rain speaks until now. I loved this poem, Neil. I hope it rains here soon. But if not – this gives me promise that I can still look for it elsewhere… see where its circle begins.
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Thank you Heather. There’s a thing about moving a poem idea from head to print – that it don’t always translate the way you thought it would. All language is rather one step removed from reality. I came to easily love this photo image – and I did do a poem, but not the same as it was inside me. But regarding circles, yes, every point is one starting point. You kind of can’t miss. Water here is the key. Some rain falls down, some falls up. Thanks again.
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What a lovely poem Neil! Your sensitivity and thoughtfulness touches my heart my friend. Thank you sincerely. Stay safe & well.
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My heartfelt appreciation reflected & encouraged in return. You don’t just bring beauty to my face, but you’re ever there when I make a new post. Small thing, yes, but from you, means a lot to me.
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Another beautiful look at circles—life, water, connection. This one feels almost musical, like I can hear a chord calling out to me. Water connects. Water moves. Such lovely imagery and words.
I’m a fan of Cindy’s work too. She’s a gifted photographer. I’m so glad you two have connected.
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Thank you Bridgette. You know how I appreciate you. Of Cindy, yes, but I think of her as a gifted human being. That’s what I see in her photographs behind the camera, much as I do of you.
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