At long last, a celebration pours from the sky
and cool air floats over our home.
All flowers, each tree, every blade of grass
sighs in relief and joy
as if a hunger march has just ended
on their last breath.
Blue jays, titmice, crows, even hawks,
stay out to play, winds and all.
And this evening, after the water has softened
the hard cracks of the soil,
drooping branches
will be coaxed back to life.
The great trees will restore their accounts
and then tend to all the small things
who climb over and through them
and who have but tiny wells to feed.
All take their fill under moonlight
as they can
before the next long tomorrow comes,
with whatever it brings.
Poems from in between 
4 responses to “The rain has come”
There is such a gentleness to the voice in this one. The kind of rain that is just right. Love the stanza with the trees restoring their accounts.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I imagine that all the old oaks just take care of everyone else. They have such strong souls. 🙂 Silly, maybe, but I am so glad you enjoyed it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m with you. Just finished reading Tallamy’s Nature of Oaks, which supports your idea entirely 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! I read his Bringing Nature Home. It must be surfacing here. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person