Rain is falling,
thrumming, steady on the deck boards as I wake in the dark.
Rain has arrived, like a nurse,
in rooms of exhaustion
plumping up the hard pillows of dry earth,
tenderly touching the burnt boards of dreams
Anointing their fallen doorways
releasing the love they surrounded,
into the aching hearts of those who are bereft.
It is like salve spread on a burning wound.
It is like a bowl of baptism poured over us.
It is like our tears,
grief and gratitude running down our faces.
It is who we will need to become.