make peace with rain

Rain always makes me thankful. Existing in a period of drought, my heart races at the first drop of rain. How many trees will drink today, how much grass will flourish today? I cannot speak for heavily flooded areas for theirs is a different point of view from dried up lawns and cautious use of water (and for that, my heart goes out to them for i too have lived through the aftermath of a typhoon). But a lesson of gratitude fills me today, thankful that God has blessed us with this modicum amount of rain, if not to reacquaint us then to christen us, reel us back to hope in each drop of rain.

tune out the chaos and
let the silence come in
for no rain can permeate
thick walls saturated with
voices. the clamor of fear
and dissatisfaction crumpled
and stuffed inside our core
pushes our divinity out to
the margins, a puzzle as
to why insecurity settles in;
quietly, open the door and
make peace with the rain,
shake its persistent hand
and let it drench the palms
destined to touch and change
the course of man


Thank You for the Rain

What joy there is in rain! Even in these meager drops of water I rejoice in the middle of such drought. The wind is a welcome relief coming through the screen. This feeling of cool amidst a heatwave is really something to be thankful. This unpredictable weather we are having, as though for one second we are pardoned from what brings us into a standstill.

never too grateful, this rain…
this much coveted water the
ground welcomes home as my skin
ought to perish soon from the
heat, but today it won’t, for
a moment it stays and flourishes
without mindless irritation
followed by hesitation, nor
reckless surrender… how i am
boxed in this hopelessness,
and, yet, from this liquid like
honey from the sky yields me
time to refrain and raise my
hand towards the sky, give
praise, thankful for right now

-mr gahon 9/9/15

Beauty Hath Compassion

Everything collapses into one. When someone passes, I can’t help fuse my thoughts about God, beauty and my grandmother and how all seems to be unified. There’s joy and then there’s sadness, though I don’t think the latter is rooted in God. But everything seems to be same somehow, each one intricately put together as though there aren’t any dimensions at all, only one smooth plane.

beauty hath compassion
upon the dead and saddened
eye; these daffodils stare
blankly into the sky and
when sullen, ornery rain
comes down… where it leaks,
my tongue shall catch
every last drop of mercy
to pardon this stench and
solid mess; cleanse me
from the stains that derail
my faith upon the grandeur
of this earth underneath
careless feet racing with
laughter— I behold this
world in a tight embrace,
I won’t let you go

-mr gahon 1/20/15