My morning...

Soothing, refreshing, enchanting sound… Rain.  We woke up to that—to the sinuous and magical heaviness hanging gently from musky skies; the smell of wetness, all-embracing and wonderful renewing wetness, and marigold scents wafting from the earth as the music of rain entered the soul, calming it, sweeping away any dullness left by the darkness of night.      

And inside—that extraordinary coziness and sense of comfort only true to rainy days… little lights twinkling here, drawing magical forms on walls over there…. always lifting up the spirit; scattering away any despondencies left untamed… like glimmering imps dancing in the ghostly light of morning…

I go around the house listening to the sound of rain.  “Tú eres la luz que alumbró las tinieblas”—sings the voice in my CD player. “And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not” (John 1:5).  

Kitty hasn’t discovered his way to me yet… I’m still trying.

I am but a speck of dust drifting in the storms of this world.  No.  I am a raindrop resonating in the silent, like little bells of hope and tiny lights of faith…

How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
is sure to be there. 

(Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith by Mary Oliver)

 

LINKING TO:

GARDEN PARTY