When it’s dry here,
the clay in the soil shrinks,
its particles pulling
more tightly together
until deep cracks form in the earth,
a force so powerful
it can damage foundations.
This makes me wonder
about how we, too,
storied to have come from clay,
can crack in times of drought.
I have felt it, drought of love,
drought of touch, drought of death,
drought of compassion and justice.
And I have known, too, the miracle
of how when the drought is over,
the clay of my soul expands again,
absorbing what it most needs.
Is it strange how much comfort
I take in knowing it’s natural,
that cracking is what we do,
it’s part of the cycle.
Of course, the cracking.
And of course, the healing.
I am awed by its force
and how little it takes,
even a small bit of rain,
for deep healing to begin.
Posts Tagged ‘drought’
How Did I Ever Believe It Would Be Otherwise?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, natural process, pain, rain on November 13, 2023| 15 Comments »
When It’s Hardest
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged choice, desert, drought, love, plant, yucca on June 15, 2021| Leave a Comment »
In a time of drought
let me choose to love you
the way yucca blooms—
creamy, abundant, soft—
despite drought.
No. Because drought.
Amen
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, green, patience, prayer, rain, reslilience on July 21, 2020| 4 Comments »
Oh green, I miss you,
miss how you used
to flourish in me,
no matter how brittle,
how brown I’d become.
I didn’t know then
I took you for granted.
I miss your softness,
your tenderness,
all the promise inside you,
the sunlight you carry
in your veins.
Some days I remember
what it is to be green.
Some days, when it’s gray,
I tell myself green is possible again.
Some days, when the rain
still doesn’t fall,
I practice how to break.
Some days, I swear I’ll find a way
to become green again,
no matter how unlikely,
how parched this field.
Somedays, though I long since
forgot how to pray,
the prayers find me anyway
and my empty hands
will not come down.
Thirsty
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, drought, rain on May 31, 2020| Leave a Comment »
At last, the rain,
a furious rain,
that turned into
tiny fists of hail,
shredding leaves
and pummeling
everything it met,
it rained as if
one day, charged
with intensity,
might change
a hundred days
of drought—
and, oh, the world after,
bruised and shining, still thirsty.
One Bidding
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, rain, thirst on May 12, 2020| 4 Comments »
waking to rain
what is driest in me
reshapes itself
into a beggar’s bowl
puts itself in my hands
One Drought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, poem, poetry, rain on September 16, 2019| Leave a Comment »
After the Drought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, poem, poetry, worry on August 24, 2018| 2 Comments »
even my worry
decides to kick off its shoes
and play in the rain—
forgetting for a moment
its soggy gray socks
One Irrepressible
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, inner resources, poem, poetry, pond on August 9, 2018| 2 Comments »
in the relentless drought,
finding inside me
a pond somehow still present,
an unstoppable,
insistent spring
After Months and Months of Drought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, poem, poetry, rain on July 11, 2018| 4 Comments »
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.
Unlikely Love Song
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, poem, poetry, praise, summer, water on July 4, 2018| 8 Comments »
Praise the summer, with its
endless drought. How you’d rather
revile it, change it, pray
for the world to be another way.
Praise the sky, relentlessly clear,
and the dry field that crunches
beneath your feet.
You dream of green, dream
of laughing in the rain, dream
of puddles and the thin river
rising. But praise the scarcity,
how it teaches you what
you would rather not know—
how fragile the balance,
how every drop matters,
how lucky it is
to grow.
In a Year of Drought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged corn lillies, drought, poem, poetry on July 3, 2018| 3 Comments »
On the divide
the corn lilies
yellow as if
it were autumn,
their leaves
brittling too soon,
like lovers
surprised during
the honeymoon
to find there is
just not enough
to keep things
alive. Such a short
time ago
they believed
just a smile
could open
the whole sky.
How I long
to be wrong
about them.
Dry December
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged december, dream, drought, poem, poetry on December 5, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Winter, this year,
like the dream
in which I must
call someone
but I cannot
remember who
it is, only
how important
that I call.
When I wake,
I walk to the phone,
but waking
brings me no
closer to remembering.
Off the porch,
the pansies
wear plum
and gold—
there is summer
in their softness.
I stare at them.
Who is it
I am supposed
to call? And
what has happened
to winter?
The sky
turns a bluer
shade of blue.
The pansies
nod. Whatever
they know,
they’re not telling.
Unfinished Song
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, love, poem, poetry on July 5, 2017| 1 Comment »
Tonight, I love you
the way the sky loves the moon,
the way trees
love their leaves,
the way loss
loves minor tunes.
Tonight, I love you
just as the sea loves the waves,
just as blooms
love their Junes,
just as welcomes
love doorways.
Don’t you hear
there’s a question in the air
and it smells like rain,
the rain that’s yet to come.
Can’t you hear
there’s a humming in the air
and it smells like rain,
the rain that’s yet to come.
Tonight, I love you
the way the earth loves the rain,
the way jazz
loves pizzazz
the way mornings
love champagne.
Tonight, I need you
the way the rain needs the sky,
the way blue
needs light, too,
the way questions
need their whys.
Don’t you hear
there’s a question in the air
and it smells like rain,
the rain that’s yet to come.
Can’t you hear
there’s a wonder in the air
and it smells like rain,
the rain that’s yet to come.
A Strange Knowing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged desert, drought, giving, patience, poem, poetry, rain on May 26, 2015| 5 Comments »
It is not only that the desert longs for water.
Of course the water longs for desert, too.
Any raindrop can fall and get lost in an ocean,
but to fall where it’s parched, where just
the smallest amount of wet can launch a hundred
hundred blooms, can set ten thousand thousand
seeds into frothy flight, oh. Now that is something
worth falling for. No imaginary desert. The real thing,
all prickle and spine and thorn and barb.
And the petals after. The heat can spend months
holding off just the briefest sprinkle. But then
no one said it was going to be easy, this going
where we’re needed most. Patience is the marriage
of sweetness and sting. To bring life one must also be alive.
Two Almosts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged appearances, drought, haiku, poem, poetry on July 7, 2013| 1 Comment »
rain falls
like shooting stars, one drop
to wish on
*
sure it’s shiny
but don’t get close enough to sniff—
barracuda flower
drought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, poem, poetry, rain, responsibility, self realization on November 5, 2012| 2 Comments »
not for days
not for weeks
not for years
has rained
oh the dust
the dust
on everything
that leaf
that stone
this heart
what just one rain
would do,
I think
knowing
even as
I shake
my hands
at the sky
that I
am
the rain
Five Haiku as the Rain Finally Returns
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged drought, haiku, poem, rain on July 10, 2012| 3 Comments »
in the downpour
no distance at all
between laughter and water
*
all mud
the boy asks me
hug?
*
your words
the moment leaps
its banks
*
incessant rain
these lips still
so thirsty
*
scent of rain,
want of rain, every poem
a praise poem