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1. Rain is on the way: hopefully not too much.

   NIGHT RAIN

   By Ellin Anderson

   Day’s heat and dust had held the world in thrall,
   But with blue night, the rain was sure to fall
   When twilight’s mist and moonlessness returned
   To douse the sunset where we might have burned.
   I listened — listened — in the dark, for proof,
   And heard my hopes fulfilled, high on the roof:
   The rapid drumming of those liquid notes,
   Sweet music that could quench a thousand throats.
   Some fierce dust devils were careening where
   Rain hit the road — and died of deep despair,
   But any flower that had given up
   Bloomed into blackness as contentment’s cup.
   The torrent found its way to thirsty ground:
   Parched fields received those drops without a sound;
   Wind rose to help the storm sweep every hill,
   Seeking out springs and empty wells to fill,
   Looking for prayers to answer, bead by bead —
   Water as life, fulfilling every need.
   And while we slept, beads melted to a veil
   That whispered as it fell — no hint of hail
   Disturbed the whirling harmony that ranged
   Through simple scales that left the season changed.
   When morning broke, it fell on flowing streams
   Where we could float away on summer dreams,
   For heaven’s fields are fertile plains to sow
   Where wishes, hopes, and prayers are sure to grow.

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