Rain...

The rain falls on the mountains like the tears of the Goddess,

Joyous over new life.

Waning light ushers out the fullness of Summer while the world

And its inhabitants ripe

With age, and beauty take their places in the natural cycles

Of birth and rebirth.

Savoring the present and past in an ancient ritual

With which to wipe

Away the “way things are”, and to replace them with a

Warm comforting light

Of how things “will be” in just a scant few naps through

The darkest night.

 

The sight of these tears causes a pause.  During which life views

This change, this path,

And the nearness of lengthening days.  The sound of teardrops

Echo and laugh.

Smells of earth, moldy and decaying yet unformed bodies of

Nutrients and clay,

Waft through the breeze.  Breeze felt by all as the soft loving kiss

Of  Mothers who lay

Next to their children.  Life preparing for one more turn in

The wheel of the seasons.

Another time when light and dark turn toward each other, change

Places, light visits and night runs. 

 

A promise of fullness exists side by side the brown grass

And leafless limbs of trees.

Animals rest and prepare for the time when they, too,

Will rise from their knees

And take their places in the long march of life.  The impulse to

Replace old with young

So strong.  Mature life becomes swollen with love that is known

Before a life walks among

The living in this world.  Love that will become one with all that

Walks, swims, grows or flies.

Love that will know the tears of the Goddess like the rain which

Falls and never dies.

 

10/28/2015