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