THE FIRST SPRING RAIN
The day, darker by the minute,
Soon the sun would die,
Black clouds, manning battle stations,
To maneuver in the sky.
First, the wind - then stillness,
Then a blast of wind again,
Like some tormented monster,
Taunting mortal men.
Trees open wide their gnarled arms,
While in the wind they shudder,
And pretty flowers tremble, too,
As thirsty blooms turn upward.
Small birds, troubled, worried,
No longer sweet, their song,
Frightened, frantic, frenzied,
Sensing something wrong.
Nutbrown squirrels stop mid-trip,
And for a second, tilt their heads,
Then scurry homeward fast,
Fearful and in dread.
Meanwhile, the whole world waits,
As in the distance, thunder rumbles,
Men mop their brows as they look up,
They want the rain ... yet grumble.
Little girls with giggles,
Proud of useless, small umbrellas,
Little lads with shiny boots
Indeed, most happy fella's.
Kids poised, ready to go out,
The instant rain begins,
Mothers - fussing, fretting,
Cats meowing at closed doors,
Wanting in and out,
Doggies sniffing rain-filled scents,
Looking quizzically about.
At long last, a drop is felt,
Then more, and more, and more,
The sky has opened up, it seems,
And there is rain galore.
The apprehension of the storm
Is all but now forgot,
As the kiss of God is felt,
With each wondrous falling drop.
So welcome is the first Spring rain,
So pleasing are God's showers,
Men's hearts and souls and minds,
Now as eager as the flowers.
But almost greater than the rain
Is its anticipation,
Watching nature do its thing,
What a joy - God's preparation.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright April 2003