It’s raining like a steady reminder.
It takes you down a notch –
the dampening, the quieting,
the dimming of the day.
Yesterday you soaked up the sun,
sprinting in its clarity and warmth
unencumbered along the shore.
Now clouds overhead, distant thunder;
it takes rain, each drop a sting, a spur, a tiny fetter,
an eroding of the momentary stature,
to bring you down to earth,
to bring you around to your senses.
Don’t cozy up to this world.
Fidelity and stability aren’t in its nature.
The best it will do is tease you with glimpses
of immortal beauty, with twinges of love
and then, open up a grave.
The rain will let you in on the secret –
let you listen a while to its pelting
the lid of your casket.
O child of God, hope and despair –
get not soaked to the bone by either one.
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