the rain
came
in waves
not
of salutation
but
of blessing
kissing my face
with a harsh
and brutal
frankness
bending
the trees
in a sea sent breeze
fast dripping
the thirsty
fuschia
and sending
the beetle
scuttling home
before the path
became pooled
and dangerous
o
the rain
the rain
o
the rain
embracing all
in forceful
gay abandon
the
rain
o
the rain
o
the rain
God's tincture
life blood
leaven
My favorite aspects of this poem are the "o"s-- so verbal, like exclamation, yet so empty as if holes for the "rain" to fall through, and even the drops themselves. The music of the poem even suggests whole notes, and the detail as always, fuschia and beetle give the natural world on which rain falls, substance.
