After yesterday’s twisters, hail and strong winds, today the state was shown mercy. Its rained and rained and rained, but we all kept our roof tops. Glass port holes that give us a glimpse of the outside world were not blown out, nor were cars pelted or farm animals fearful. Today Indiana was shown mercy. This got me thinking about a poem written a few years back.
You pray and dance your rituals,
Created a god to whom you offer sacrifices In exchange for a promise
That the rain will fall.
For the harvest must be full
And the tide must pull just right.
I could bring in the breeze with a few clouds to break the sun’s sting, or
Shower upon a land fire and cut off its hunger for power.
When dry grass gulps from drops that make your windowsills ping,
I hear no sigh of relief.
Why did you wait so long?
Why didn’t you save the trees and
Why did you let destruction take so many?
How cramped are the clouds with their tumultuous hordes of
Resentment and disdain that churns into a spring storm
And brings the driving rain.
The roar and lightening gives you a glimpse of what I fully perceive.
Release upon your land is the only way to maintain my sanity.
I’m bound in so many separate places
Across a sky that does not end.
Frightened by fierce rage, my courage is running thin.
The eye of the storm is here
I can’t hold this in.
It is clear I’ll do too little or too much
And some how mess it up.
Heaven cannot hold me, and mere men cannot prevent
The reclaiming of my sanity when I let go and the rains begin.