The Gift of Rain

What surprised him the most was the strength of the bow, the Living Bow. Would she accept him? How many times had he trained with his uncle? Yet he was able to notch the arrow as the bow yielded.

He began pulling it back, and his arms quickly began straining. The bow yielded more and began to sing. He pulled her back further as she began a heavenly chorus, with the sound of many voices. And further he pulled, now pointing the arrow straight up at grey clouds.

He heard his Mother’s voice…..his Mother who wasn’t there, yet was everywhere at once, saying, “Always use your gifts for good, never for evil…” He let the arrow fly, and the Living Bow stopped her singing….At first there was nothing yet gradually he felt a drop here, then there.

And eventually it did rain….over the scorched and dry land.

So it was true after all he thought.

He did have the gift of rain.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Storm Meditation

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Leaves dance to the rhythm of the rain, while tree limbs sway and I realize,

something within me enjoys the wildness of the storm, thunder rolls and boils in the sky,

yet I’m not afraid, instead…amazed how creation nourishes the earth, as the rain becomes gentle again.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Within the Thunder

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I wonder, does God get angry within the thunder? Or is it simply a matter of heat vs. cool air?

Last night I watched the rain from our porch, as if waiting for a revelation,

but it was only a downpour, pounding on the streets, driven by wind.

If God spoke……I didn’t hear Him…….at least, not this time.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Late Winter Rain

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Sleepily, before the morning dawn, mist begins the rain.

As I listen in the dark, ice crystals descend here

and there on the roof. Pitter patter,

then, in an opening of the heavens

the snow is washed disappearing,

a silent reminder

of the promise of spring

living in more than

our distant dreams,

as I pull up the covers enfolded

and fall back to sleep.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies