The air is perfumed
with the gift of life-giving rain.
The earth is moist
with the gift of life-giving rain.
The plants are restored
with the gift of life-giving rain.
The evening’s feathered choristers
sing thanks for the gift of life-giving rain.
As the clouds separate
into clusters of golds and greys,
parting to allow the night blanket
to cover the land in its velvet
full moon softness,
the place I call home
goes into the hours of darkness and rest,
refreshed and renewed.
It was long in coming
and after the arid days,
I welcome the gifts and blessings
the rain bestows upon the land.
Gray Bear in the Middle 