Write On.life: Thoughts. Written. Shared.

An Abecedarian

A drop.
Beads of water on the window
Coming from the gray clouds hanging low
Dripping plants are grateful for the water
Even I feel a bit of refreshment
Flowing into each creek and river
Green grass, dark green, is our future
Hear the sound, pitter patter, ’tis a comforting sound
I feel it, do you?
Just pause a moment, and listen
Keep still, my friend,
Let it wash over you.
Many waters, meet again
Never ceasing, in their cycle
Over the ground, and down they flow, then
Parting to go skyward.
Quietly, they form the clouds, which growing heavy
Release their bountiful harvest on our heads
Splashing through puddles, we make our way
To the old home place.
Under our roof, we’re kept dry and warm
Very glad to be in from the storm
We are where
X marks the treasure
Yet we often forget this..
Zap! The lightning strikes, and the thunder resounds

–S. Wenger

~circa summer of ’22