Breath of Rain
Poems From The Porch
The smell of rain and the unapologetic wind give respite to the heat of the day.
Far away, the thunder growls its grumpiness at being disturbed.
Off to the southeast, a mournful cloud is weeping.
An early morning walk along the rocky Yampa revealed wildflowers in lavender, rust, and yellow.
Patches of wispy, white salsify balls appeared camouflaged as giant dandelion blossoms.
I am mindful that every encounter is a divine appointment of giving and receiving.
Nothing, in particular is required in the exchange.
Like the brief storm that was here when I arose from my afternoon siesta,
and now has moved on.
The majestic presence received my attention,
and it offered, in return, the delight of its unique, nuanced being,
never to be repeated or captured,
restrained or detained.
Such is the inhale and exhale of life in each moment.