Raining in Summer

Like a welcome Summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you. —Langston Hughes RAINING IN SUMMER The little teapot leaned over, steam pours out, sizzles on the pavement. Trickles, sprinkles, waters the subsidiary gardens that sprout - those pointed out by a grandson. My wrinkles curve up as the rain skillfully waters my willow, my patch of roses and lilies, scattered and rare. With Summer storm, I ruminate on a long time ago. This grand-generation of blessing, not yet a prayer. Drip…drop…splosh! The hope of the window pane. We dream, as the outburst streams down to spill our dreams, like seeds giving more than the mundane. God saturates our lives with more than we will. It’s raining Summer all over this land of honey-wheat. Though droll and gray, a grateful soak gifts a sun rise. My flower petals, leaves and boughs bathed in heat and nourishing drink, replenishing the owls, and other wise. Ker-splash, the puddles of inky-mud, stain the shins, leave me, us, them, refreshed and sodden with grins.