Rain Magic - Anodea Judith

[Larry Robinson]

Rain Magic

I miss the rainy years,
when the skies darkened for days at a time.
Those years when the leaves wept with gratitude
for the quenched thirst in their roots.

I remember splashing in the puddles
In my rubber boots 
And how the mud on my soles 
sang with the joy of a slippery earth.

I loved the excuse to stay indoors 
with a good book
A cup of tea
Maybe a fire in the hearth.
Or maybe nothing at all,
But the soothing backdrop of rain
Rhythmically syncing to the purring of my cat.

Hillsides of trees now show the gray of death.
They match the color of the smoke 
hanging in the air from distant fires. 
What happens when there’s no water to douse those flames?

This punishing drought 
is not just of weather,
But a drought of decency
A drought of compassion
A drought of foresight to what’s ahead –
A perfect storm, but not the kind we want.

Where is the thunder of truth?
Where is the storm of outrage?
When will man’s heavenly decrees 
yield to the mother earth 
Who gives life only on her own terms?

Is that the magic we need
to call the rains down
upon our growing desert?
To dance the thunder into the ground 
With the marching of our feet?
To stop and grieve real tears 
for what we are losing?

Let us begin then
by embracing the fog 
that still remembers
what it is to be moist. 					

	- Anodea Judith