A Promise of Rain

Pinkish Dawn

A Free Verse Poem

Morning meditation in the dark before dawn, Clouds sock-in the blue beyond, A promise of rain perchance.

At the instance of first light approaches a flash Of pink and a ting of red. I see and feel a brief association with distant fires;

On no. Passes quickly that association, for the clouds Are a glow with a pinkish — touch of red from God’s creative brush. The look of it

Is nothing like fire, but the surge of Sun’s Light At an imagined horizon, bloom a promise of a new Day. With a glinting smile cast over land, sea,

Mountains, and dale for those brief few minutes at Dawn’s break. A roll of gray clouds pass one single Palm and six Redwood friends. The roll of gray

Flattens in a monochrome of sky. Barely a texture of clouds above. The dried soil aching with thirst longs for

Glorious rain. The weather casters say At three showers to grace the land. Thousands of skyward watchers

With bent back heads and craning necks, Stretch for rain to pelt the faces, my face — At best, I feel clouds of Earth’s caress.

Ah blessings and visualization, auditorization, Olfactoration, and Sensation of the soil from Earth’s Soul — refreshed.

And finally threats of fire and Indian Summer Heat waves gone and laid to rest. In prep we Make for winter’s rain and in mountains: snow.

Rain cometh. Please. For if no rain doth appear, I shall be satisfied with the moisture

Of humidity’s cool airs, Mist on my face, And in refresh.

I sigh, And watch my breath, And feel my breath…

F. K. Ontario ©

My inner voice kept saying — go write it and delay breakfast fixings. I procrastinated a bit more and he, my inner voice, yelled “Now.”

I strode from kitchen to my desk and let the images speak through me across the keyboard of letters rolling in tapas of words and sentences. Yum.

I guess I’m a tad hungry and maybe thirsty too for a bouquet of words. Thank you muses all.

Thank you for reading. Blessings, Passion, and Grace on your journey. May whatever your looking for — find you.