I awoke to a lazy summer orchestra called rain.
The thing about You, God, is You never disregard any of the senses–
Not only does the steady pitter-pat of the water drops from Heaven sing Your lullaby,
But also I feel the satisfaction of the trees and their leaves as their thirst is quenched.
They don’t put up a fight as they’re doused, but seem to relax;
A bow of surrender.
An acknowledgement that just because they’re big and strong doesn’t mean that they aren’t totally dependent on the kiss of rain.
The leaves sometimes quiver under the small weight of a drop and the subtle beauty of it allows me, also, to feel their pleasure.
Though the sky is gray–covered completely in clouds fat with rain–there is a brightness to the gray; a stark gray if you will–that offers foreshadowing of a sunny afternoon.
Then the sun will have his turn to delight.