There was rain today that came in waves, the first a sun shower and the second gray.
And I’m grateful, ‘cause now my dying plants is saved.
At the window I rest my head, and soften my gaze over the hood — assess the lay of the land.
A big red pickup parks, and out comes a man.
Some neighbors are friendly. Some won’t bother to nod or learn ya name.
And that’s okay. I be preferring the company of ancestors to any of them anyway.
I wonder how it all came to be — this place where the rain comes in waves. This place that holds blood and sweat but also carries rainbows.
And no matter how green your grass is the road’s bound to have potholes. And I think about going out to dance in the puddles,
stick my bare feet in the water rushing down the street gutters, but I have to write this down instead.
A jolt of thunder boasts a promise — there will be plenty of time ahead.
I thought about destroying all the poems, all the words I had ever written. But how could I destroy what was never mine?
This land will go on spinning, go on spinning, on spinning won’t it?
And the rain will give us life.
I’ve got to go feel it on my skin now. I cannot guess I must know.
The cool refreshing release of tension the falls upon all of us resting here now. And I will stomp and I will let go —
And I will stomp and I will feel whole —
And I will stomp and I will know, I will know, I will know
that full on healing comes in waves, and it’s the rain that’s gonna save.