Rain
Rain
Water is power.
Late summer’s rain is falling,
Cleansing the thick air,
Polishing dusty leaves,
Soaking dried out roadways,
Running down the rough bark
Of the old oak tree.
Mighty branches,
Heavy with summer green leaves
Sway under the powerful onslaught.
Water is power.
Without it, no life would exist.
Water washes away dirt, grime, and dust.
I wish it could wash troubled thoughts away,
I would stand in the rain, let it wash away all
Those hurtful memories.
Wash away regrets as well as doubts.
But rain is forgiving.
It does not choose to refresh only some.
It nourishes all alike.
Copyright © Bridget Aubrey | Year Posted 2011
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