There Will Come Soft Rain Again Tonight
There will come soft rain again tonight,
a hush upon the wounded ground,
and from the dark a Seed will open—
small shoot trembling toward the sound.
And fruit will swell from tender branches,
round with promise, full and bright,
to burst with juice upon the tongue—
a star of sweetness in the night.
The rivers, rising, heavy-bellied,
like women carrying dreams inside;
they move with ancient, patient knowing,
as the holy scriptures testified.
And Trees with roots like braided stories
cling fast to banks where memories stay,
while bushes hide in green devotion
beneath the moon’s pale-blue array.
Oh, when soft rain returns to bless us,
each living thing will breathe again—
for even sorrow breaks to blossom
beneath the gentle hand of rain.
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