for my father
And when at last
the healing comes,
may it come like the rain
after a long drought,
so soft that at first
you aren’t sure
it is raining,
but the fragrance
overcomes you,
green and wet,
and the world
looks dewy and
you feel it in your lungs.
Yes, may the healing
arrive on the edge
of perception
and then feel
wholly present,
as today when the rain turned
long and steady,
the kind that slowly
saturates and changes everything
so quietly that
you almost don’t remember
what it was like before
and everywhere you look,
all you see is promise.
