Rain, then sun, then cloud

Then rain again with thunder loud

But look, sun peeks through once more

This strange morning suggests

A day of conflict and confusion

If one believed such things

But the grass is greener now

And stitched with shadow-edged gold

As the heavy air presses down

Like comforting blankets piled high

While crystal water falls from a laden sky

Drip, drip, drip

Small, soft hammers tap this world

Purifying it… washing away the dark

Bright birdsong heralds some new thing

Rising with intent in the faithful east

Tempting us to join the chorus of tweets

As if no other days had come before

As if this day was the first

Of countless many more

And I am solitary, grateful witness,

A living improbability

Hearing, feeling, seeing

That which shouldn’t be

This impossibility

Of life…of death…

Of anything with breath

Or anything at all

But words are too small

And life too short

To do justice to what it is

To be.