sh-bush

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
Rain falls
And winds come
turning sage to dust.
A message found on the belly of leaves
“let go.”
Smoke remains in cloud formations
lamenting pink sunbursts.
And in golden alleyways
sweet nectar pours into dried riverbeds.
by Elizabeth Farrell

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