Sitting on the porch while the storm rolls in.
Exhausted from work overnight
and a very taxing week.
I watch the rain and imagine
She is washing the week away.
The thunder rolls are the Universe
telling the stress and wear to be gone.
The Wind is pushing the weight of the week
out of my Sacred Space
as if the strain were
a guest that has overstayed its welcome.
Be gone and leave me.
Almost before my eyes,
the grass gets greener,
the blossoms shine brighter,
and the birds sing louder.
The houses and cars and trash bins look newer.
The air smells sweeter.
What a gift is this –
That the undesired forecast bring such baptism.
The flow of water without,
a template for the flow within.
in all Her Glory
encourages me to follow.