Businessmen at lunch wince at the chill,
Hurrying their pace,
They didn’t dress for this.
The earth smiles.
A mother’s frustrated child with a grumpy face,
She hastily zips the miniature jacket
Just in time.
The ground is as peace.
He sighs with hands on hips,
The darkening sky spoiling his run,
Homeward he turns.
The rocks are waiting.
Sunbeams are snuffed by smokey dense mass,
As the air stills, waiting.
The dark is welcome and cold is a friend.
To the dried and cracked earth,
There is no more welcome sigh than the gathering clouds
To the dead grass,
Brown and dusty.
The thirsting earth will be satisfied,
In the freezing deluge,
The sunshine hidden and warmth stolen.
How easy it is to despise discomfort,
And to wish for the sunshine.
When the greatest beauty is to be seen.
After the pouring rain.