Don’t you love this plumb-true prompt from Michelle?
Safe inside, toasty warm, while water pitter-patters on the roof… describe your perfect, rainy afternoon. Photographers, artists, poets: show us RAIN.
We’ve just had a Noah’s-ark of a week. Lots of indoor time. lots of time for the quieter pursuits. like poetry.
When the Rain Comes Down
it holds our world behind its deliberate wall.
We search for familiar forms-
the path’s retreat into the woods,
a stand of tansy and yarrow,
the sweep of queen’s lace.
The rain scumbles wands of forsythia,
blowsy bee balm, wild raspberries.
Beyond where all things bend to the sound of rain,
a tangle of grapevine shrouds mossy stumps and stones,
solemn trees prop up the darkness;
we find nothing to fix our gaze on.
Drowsy with the rain,
we sit in this room that grows octaves grayer,
replete with the din of falling water.
In the gathering darkness,
we look to each other
and find a matrix of light
no ruinous rain can erase.