Who can stop the rain’s descent,
each tear formed and sent?
The H and the 2 and the O
banded as a trinity went
*
to play on leaves hung
on the air like a lung
in the spreading tree,
stepping down, rung to rung.
*
They patter like a soft timpani
off to the edge of the canopy
shushing our soul
and healing our atrophy.
*
The showers on their way
with a pelting fray.
Come, remind us then
of morning mercy’s display.
*
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul.” Lamentations 3:22-24
We are cared for as faithfully as the rains come every fall.