Shower of Grace

Shower of Grace

The still, bright points of stars
Twinkle, silent, in a sky
Shifting, imperceptibly from
Deepest blue to faint green on the horizon.
Rich blues rise up,
Stars fading, as pinks, purples,
Mauves, golds, outrageous,
Flaunt across clouds,
Reflecting, recalling, rejoicing the sun.
A single swallow rests
A moment,
in
Homage.

Sweet blessings of rain:
Small showers, slow mists
Drifting across a lake.
Wind-blown, storming,
Big drops plashing, driving,
Stinging, in cold lashes.
Thundering, lit by glittering lightning.
The very sun dimmed through clouds;
So, a sky of
Mother of pearl
at
Noon.

Snow, sleet, ice, rain or sun,
All grace pouring down,
Showering on our heads.
As children, we splashed in the puddles,
We lifted our faces and laughed.
But we could not wait to grow up.
Now, we hunch our shoulders
We grumble at the weather.
Shower of grace,
Fall
on
Me!

Betsy McKenzie
Jan. 2, 2006