Rain In The Time Of Plague - Bruce Moody

[Larry Robinson]

Rain In The Time Of Plague

I

Its curtain falls gentle as a quarantine from God 
that keeps souls tidied from rain and one another’s faces.

Rain baffles down.

Its oratorio 
complains of nothing, 
fears nothing,
and nothing can resist.

And I? 

I praise and thank grace
to keep me and you well indoors and warm
as others of us cower in holey tarps and tents
in helter-skelter shelter from the domination 
of the reign of the plague and the rain. 

It rains convincingly as I on dry paper write —
what thanks can match such fortune and such favor?

Anything that falls from a thousand feet falls to death. 

Save rain that damages in striped tumble 
no one and nothing. 

II

Plague 
scorches 
Earth.

And with its reins The Old Cloaked Coachman drives us into stalls
and stalls everything, each and everyone 
for once everywhere the same.





Listen, O listen, you blessèd who read this ink 
that on this page 
falls clear as rain 
and
black 
as plague.

Take courage. 
Take shelter in the shelter of our common cause for once.

III


For in this inundation, O World, we hold handless hands. 

We join the drenched in ample consideration for each other now.

Peace, sweet ones. 
I cannot stop speaking. 
I cannot bear to let you go. 

Our shelter is we are the leaves of every tree in one tree.

Thus do we bless the blessing of the plague —
its safety our sequester.

For that which curtains us choirs us.

Plague’s separation joins us.
 
This pestilential deluge for a time
your heart with all hearts unites — 
hidden —
hidden away in song, 
in a chant 
we all chant
protected.

Then
rest.


	- Bruce Moody