Lemurian Rain

The wind picks up
As the sun is hidden
Behind the grey threatening sky.
The lightening cracks
The thunder roars
The relentless heat is blown away.

Droplets fall
Slowly at first
That unmistakable smell
Of raindrops on scorched earth
Fills our senses with
a renewed vigour.

We rush to the washing line
to bring in the clothes,
The raindrops feel so good, so fresh,
We want to forget the clothes and become a sponge
Soaking up the fresh, cool water.

Then we realise, it's pouring!
The plants struggle to stay erect,
under the pelting rain.
As they struggled under the scorching sun,
Yet they seem to know that if they can
survive this test,
They will raise their heads high and sing
with glee!

The water seeps into the earth and
the thirsty soil drinks heartily.
Too much, too soon will expose roots
to the elements again.

We've longed for the rain
as have the plants.
We hope for gentle, consistent rain but
most showers are never enough and can be rough!
Plants damaged, soil eroded.
Some of us complain.


Negative ions fill the air!
Invigorating people and plants.
The damp,earthy scents linger,
the earth is cleansed and renewed.
The birds come out to bathe and sing,
To celebrate the gift of rain.
Let us celebrate it too.

(c)T.Seed 2002.

The fragrance of rain
Is like the touch of a lover.
It consumes,
Holds us spellbound
As an aria
In a dark auditorium.
It rises to meet us
When we open the door,
Then, it teases,
And invites us to play.

The Fragrance of rain
After a dry spell
Is magic.
I capture its essence,
Embrace it,
Hold it forever.
What better perfume
for milady’s heart
than the fragrance
of rain after a dry spell.

Vi
(c)January 2002


Rain pelting hard
Upon the windows
Upon the doors
Upon the roof
Driving in sheets
Lashing the trees
Running in rivulets
Down the green stems
Down the brown bark
Down onto the grass
Pelting, driving, pounding
It comes in waves
Loud and insistent
Softly pausing, the silence of expectation
Fresh aromas waft now
Through the open window
Pungent and cool, mixed with grass
Mixed with lemon
Mixed with life
Pauline Nolan

The verse written by Vi was the first thing I read. The words she uses touches me deeply. They stir familiar joyous emotions within me, but still they touch some deep sadness that I do not understand. I heard recently that , "We are not brains with emotions but emotions with a brains." Rain seems to touch a deep emotional level;

As thunder rumbles in the distance:

I am a women
filled with fear
huddled around a fire
in a cave in prehistoric France

As the thunder rumbles in the distance

I am a woman
in a hot tent in Mongolia
trying to grab some sleep
before breaking camp and moving on

As the thunder rumbles in the distance

I am a woman in Ethiopia
holding her parched lip child
in her lap without
a moist tear to flow

As the thunder rumbles

I am my friend in Australia
strolling in her garden
scanning the sky above
for any sign of rain

What twist of fate
placed me in this western world
enjoying the emotions
of a rumble of thunder above.
Jane Tilton

More Rain
In Saskatchewan,this morning a child will walk to school over the high snow, a jack rabbit watching will hasten away leaving his long tracks for her to measure with her mittens. She will lie down on a new drift and make herself an angel, swinging her arms wide enough to carry her onto a drifting cloud. She will dream that she can ride the wind to Africa, or to England, where a queen lives. She’ll nod to the lady, sitting on the tall throne and visit a hobbit in his lovely cave. The wings let her drift, a chill breeze brings her back. She pops up from the bank and hurries, lunch kit bumping in the red haversack. Runs down the hallway, makes it in time.
Some day, as springtime melts the pack, the shadow of an angel, smiles.
Frances