"Below, the cracked, brown earth,

       Like ancient earthen-ware,

Spreads out its dusty, worn

       Old surface, baked and bare.

Above, the polished blue

       Of a burnished August sky

Is an inverted bowl

       Of every drop drained dry."

~May Frink Converse

The last two mornings I have awakened to damp sidewalks and the fresh scent of rain in the air. As I picked up the morning paper yesterday, I had to shake the water off the plastic bag that shielded the ink from running into oblivion. This morning is rained lightly all morning. It was a gray, cocoon like morning meant for turning off the alarm, snuggling back under the covers with a good book or for a couple more hours of sleep. Instead we all headed out into a world that needed the rain so badly, a world of brown grass and withered flowers.

It was so refreshing to feel the rain falling on my skin when I headed to the car. A part of me just wanted to stand there, to be in solidarity with the soil, the grass, the thirsty plants and trees. We have been without rain for a long time though certainly not as long as some other places around the world. And my garden is small and really for enjoyment and show…it is not the livelihood that feeds my family. So in the very big picture, the drought has only affected me aesthetically but I am still very aware of our lack of rain.

Drought. It is both reality and metaphor. I know many people who are experiencing a drought in their lives right now…..physically, professionally, economically, spiritually. Those dry places that need life-giving moisture to grow are finding it difficult, even deadly. Creativity, imagination, even options seems out of reach. I pray for a drenching rain to gently fall on those brittle places that need to be doused with moisture. I pray it for them, for myself, for the hope of our world.

"Let me taste your mercy like rain on my face,here in my life, show me your peace. Let us see with our own eyes your day breaking bright, Come, O Morning, come, O Light!" Rory Cooney