The sun is hiding, all is still,
No sound of lark or whippoorwill;
There is a thickness in the air
Which makes sweat bead and frizzles hair.
Nature holds its collective breath,
Almost as if awaiting death;
The silence holds an expectation
For an end to day’s stagnation.
We loosen collars, wipe our brows,
Our eyelids droop, we start to drowse;
The air’s so heavy that it drips,
Then lightning through the ozone rips.
Now comes the blessed sound of rain,
Beating against my windowpane,
Bringing new life to things near dead
As thunder crashes overhead.
The awe of nature’s might and power
Bewitches in this summer shower;
The wind picks up and, ’cross the streets,
Blows water in cascading sheets.
Yet just as quickly as it came,
The sun returns once more to claim
Its place of honor in the sky,
While everything begins to dry.
But, Oh! the sweetness in the air,
Fragrance of flow’rs wafts everywhere;
The birds are singing once again,
Praising Him who sent the rain.
The world once more picks up its pace
While cool breezes caress each face;
And since the moisture’s passed on by,
Oh! what a sunset in the sky.
A summer rain brings blest relief
From stagnant air and stifling heat;
It visits like a welcome friend
And lifts my spirits once again.
By
Linda Newman
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