In the red mud, in the muck,
in the day’s surplus of luck,
the sudden rains make flood of wish
and fill the road with detritus
and we are stranded where we are
the roads all closed, and still, I hear
inside, some voice, insistent,
chanting More, more.
That’s the thing about drought, it makes every drop of rain so precious, yet so bittersweet because you know more is always needed. I grew up in drought, and about 6 years ago it broke in massive floods. I remember a quote from a book set in Africa, to the affect that if a man is born in a dry land, no matter how much he wishes for rain, he does not want too much, he will always want the sunshine to burn down, down on him again.
that sounds like a looooong drought! and I also get it about the longing for the sun. It is true–it’s what feels like home. But oh, this rain right now, i am so so so so grateful for it.
Splendid!
more rain! more rain! months and months of rain!