Rain, south of the "Wild Horse" desert

We have been dry for several years now.  The rains we've had were always appreciated, but they were never more than a temporary relief to a larger problem.  Last night I rode my motorcycle in a light mist for 40 miles to attend a meeting of the Blue Knights Law Enforcement Motorcycle Club in Port Isabel, Texas.  I enjoyed being slightly damp when I arrived.  After mid-night we had a good rain, and it is still raining.  I hope you enjoy this poem about rain.

God’s Symphony

The land is parched and dry

beneath the summer sun

and one might question,

why its been so long since rain

has spattered softly in the dust

until the droplets blend

in numbers large enough to

soak the crust and run in rivulets

steaming in the heat with

pitter, patter beat

backed up by lights

behind gray clouds

and roar of distant tympani?

First pianissimo, then forte

as the lightning cymbals crash

and drum roll thunder shakes

the core.

The howling wind joins in

for harmony and takes the

movement down to pianissimo

once more

then fades to blue.