Manna Meditations, Day 9 See the rain, if you like … Or see the raindrops spangling each twig and leaf … the whole world bedecked in jewels. Choose. 💛<<<< gt;
after the storm — the wind thrashing and writhing in the trees, a seizure of electric power — after all this, the raindrops shiver on the window screens… the sky beds down for the night. ❤
Tonight. It’s late. The rain falls on the house for hours without stopping — a slow, steady rain. The kind that brings the world to life. Meanwhile I’m here inside, listening to the drumming on the roof. The dinner guests have gone. The dishes have been cleaned, the wine glasses placed back on the […]
Come in, Love,and shake the rainfrom your shoulders. Come —let the storm lash the panes of the windows,the thunder rattle the bones of the house.Here we’ll make Quiet the way some peoplemake Love. (I’ll tell you a secret:Sometimes they’re one & the same.) Let’s not talk of the worldoutside the door —the storm has snappedthe wires to this place,and no outside […]
Go out into the world:
Go! Yes, you — though you are fearful and fragile and small.
Go broken-winged and bent-boned and beauty-starved… Lovesick. Stardrunk. Skydizzy.
Or go sharp-eyed and sober, if that’s how it is — the hunger for the light a clenched fist in your stomach …
Rain falls.The trees flame. Morning. * I step into the car and find it coated with wet leaves, the brown foliage glued to grill & windshield and hood. I start the engine, and a flock of small black birds shudders upward. Lifts through gray light. * On the road I am driving fast now. Water hisses in the […]
Two weeks ago, it rains. It rains all day, in a solid sheet: hard rain that hammers the earth, needles it in divots… Water fills ditches. Creeks rise. Rivers rise. This is the first day. * On the second day, it rains harder. Water fills basements, pouring through every crack and […]
As I write these words, it’s night, and I’m upstairs in a little room tucked under the eaves, listening to the rain drum the roof just above my head. I love the way a summer rain sounds silver, even in the dark. Oh, Summer: sing me to sleep. ❤
The story you’re about to read is a metaphor. It’s also true. * The storm comes yesterday out of the West, where the sunset should be. Instead, there’s a fast-moving bank of black clouds. I feel it as a pressure behind my eyes first, and then the first clap of thunder cracks over the horizon. I […]