Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me
by Mary Oliver
Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.
As I was preparing to leave for the gym, I heard the rain hitting the windows. For some reason it seemed calming and reassuring. The November weather has been atypical and lovely, yet this evening's rain seemed cleansing. As winter approaches (and perhaps even snow this weekend) the darkness envelops everything. My intention is to use the darkness to reflect on "the long and wondrous journeys still to be ours." Instead of being sad about the darkness, I am going to embrace the darkness and its journey.
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