The rains have come in the desert. Here the rains are cleansing in all ways, and are a blessing as they nourish us. In honor of the rains, this is my new poem.
In Honor of Rain
And winds come
turning sage to dust.
A message found on the belly of leaves
Smoke remains in cloud formations
lamenting pink sunbursts.
And in golden alleyways
sweet nectar pours into dried riverbeds.
by Elizabeth Farrell