These are profoundly beautiful words, thank you, Mary. Your poem is especially exquisite for a Piscean soul and the thought of being drenched in truth and 'swimming naked in water that cannot lie' is just too perfect. It is lovely to meet you and have a wonderful day.
This beautiful poem reminds me of that saying: “be the drop that tips the bucket.” Lots of synchronicities around water and rain lately. Including coming to late to this post and the connections it makes. I can always count on you for that.
An' how! I'm still seein' parched minds--pursed lips, eyes a' fire, the tusk tusk tisk tiskerz, the equivocat-urz, the mistakes-were-made-erz, the fiery finger waggers an' ponterz---even among the slightly damp--cuz many'd rurther dry off an' git ready ta strike cobra-like than risk gettin' "soaked" (in all wayz!)
That said, it's fine an' hopeful poetry an' lord knows we need more've that! So may the rains come... and may it be--as they say--"Right as Rain" once more!
a partin' tune comes ta mind--it's a favor-ite a' mine...
Me too, Daisy -- seeing the parched minds. But I can also sense the shift happening, like the bones that predict rain. Sunny day rain: it's a comin'. Thanks for the CCR reminder!
A welcome downpour. Am reminded of the unstoppable joy and exhileration that burst forth from a couple of hundred of teenagers in Harare, Zimbabwe one mid-day that ended a particularly long dry season in summer. The tension was palpable as black storm clouds pushed in untill they suddenly hurled their contents at the earth, the roofs and the tarmac. With equal force all of the girls as one left their desks, ran outside and danced and wriggled in the rain that drenched them with rain and relief, screaming with delight. As teachers we didn't consider trying to hold them back. But I so remember the perplexed and yet delighted astonishment of Janet, from Belfast, Northern Island, recently arrived as a Prod (protestant) to do a stint of teaching at a Catholic convent. No one from her home town would ever have danced in the - rain!
May this build up of massive tension in our times soon burst and bring similar joyful relief.
Gosh, Yvette -- I simply love that story. You tell it beautifully, and it speaks volumes about socialization. Dancing in the rain is NOT the Protestant way, of course! What a loss for all of us who've grown up in a similarly repressed way. I blame the Puritans. :-)
Thanks Mary. Another strand in the story fabric is, however, that there is never any dramatic arrival of rain in Ireland. No longing for rain. No long months without. Rain is virtually a cryptic spelling of Ireland!
This is just wonderful, Mary. Thank you. You've reminded me that I really do have something to look forward to. I hope I'm here to see it, but either way, it makes me happy to think about it, imagining what it will be like.
Oh how you make me smile! All the way down to my core, and all the way up again!
Thank you rain-bringer!
❤️
I'm so glad, Michael. You're definitely a raindrop yourself...
Thank you - very happy to be part of the same storm!
Yes! May it be so.☔️🙏
Smiled through this whole beautiful peace. "When truth reigns it storms." Bring it on. ❤️
Thanks, Kathleen!
I read this slowly and savored it. Thank you Mary! An answer, I think, to our ongoing conversation on how things change.
Agreed. Slow to start but once it gets going, unstoppable. xox
Rain Maker Mary! Sunday Sermon Love ❤️
I actually thought of you when the phrase "we will all cast off our clothes" presented itself; you can, of course, imagine why...😉
Incredible, I love this metaphor for truth. ❤️
Thanks, Jenn!
You are welcome!
These are profoundly beautiful words, thank you, Mary. Your poem is especially exquisite for a Piscean soul and the thought of being drenched in truth and 'swimming naked in water that cannot lie' is just too perfect. It is lovely to meet you and have a wonderful day.
Thank you, Sue! It's lovely to meet you, too. So glad this one spoke to you.
My pleasure, Mary. Your words did speak to me and I look forward to reading more.
This beautiful poem reminds me of that saying: “be the drop that tips the bucket.” Lots of synchronicities around water and rain lately. Including coming to late to this post and the connections it makes. I can always count on you for that.
Love that saying! Thanks for arriving late to the party -- makes it last longer...😁
Just beautiful, Mary! XOXO
An' how! I'm still seein' parched minds--pursed lips, eyes a' fire, the tusk tusk tisk tiskerz, the equivocat-urz, the mistakes-were-made-erz, the fiery finger waggers an' ponterz---even among the slightly damp--cuz many'd rurther dry off an' git ready ta strike cobra-like than risk gettin' "soaked" (in all wayz!)
That said, it's fine an' hopeful poetry an' lord knows we need more've that! So may the rains come... and may it be--as they say--"Right as Rain" once more!
a partin' tune comes ta mind--it's a favor-ite a' mine...
Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm
I know, it's been comin' for some time
When it's over, so they say
It'll rain a sunny day
I know, shinin' down like water
[Chorus]
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
Comin' down on a sunny day
Creedence Clearwater Revival:
https://youtu.be/g4flAZEgtjs
May it rain sunny days!
Me too, Daisy -- seeing the parched minds. But I can also sense the shift happening, like the bones that predict rain. Sunny day rain: it's a comin'. Thanks for the CCR reminder!
I hope so! dem dry bones (as they say) gotta git together! meantimes I feel the rain comin' in my big toe! (funny, no?)
Love it.
A welcome downpour. Am reminded of the unstoppable joy and exhileration that burst forth from a couple of hundred of teenagers in Harare, Zimbabwe one mid-day that ended a particularly long dry season in summer. The tension was palpable as black storm clouds pushed in untill they suddenly hurled their contents at the earth, the roofs and the tarmac. With equal force all of the girls as one left their desks, ran outside and danced and wriggled in the rain that drenched them with rain and relief, screaming with delight. As teachers we didn't consider trying to hold them back. But I so remember the perplexed and yet delighted astonishment of Janet, from Belfast, Northern Island, recently arrived as a Prod (protestant) to do a stint of teaching at a Catholic convent. No one from her home town would ever have danced in the - rain!
May this build up of massive tension in our times soon burst and bring similar joyful relief.
Gosh, Yvette -- I simply love that story. You tell it beautifully, and it speaks volumes about socialization. Dancing in the rain is NOT the Protestant way, of course! What a loss for all of us who've grown up in a similarly repressed way. I blame the Puritans. :-)
Thank you for sharing your experience. ❤️
Thanks Mary. Another strand in the story fabric is, however, that there is never any dramatic arrival of rain in Ireland. No longing for rain. No long months without. Rain is virtually a cryptic spelling of Ireland!
I hadn't considered that. It feels significant in some deep ways... though I'm not sure what, yet. :-) I need to ponder!
This is just wonderful, Mary. Thank you. You've reminded me that I really do have something to look forward to. I hope I'm here to see it, but either way, it makes me happy to think about it, imagining what it will be like.
You'd better be here, Rocket. I'm counting on you. :-)
I hope so! 🙏🏻🌦️