Blue Mountain Arts Poetry Contest

Rain
by Gary M. Chandler

Fifteenth Contest
third Place

The rain comes slowly
thrumming like a prayer
humming through the air then
drumming the earth
and for an hour 
there is nothing to be done
but succumb to an open doorway
to watch the rain
drain from the sky into the thirsty soil

And sitting here
I can see
rivulets rise in the dirt
tiny rivers 
slivers of water wending their way across the yard
one meeting the other and then another and another still
growing
glowing
gaining strength

And maybe
that is how families form
like rivulets 
rising from the colossal chaos that is the rain
families 
bound by something more than their shifting banks
following not just gravity 
but a force stronger still
for surely nothing in family
is as simple as Everything That Goes Up Must Come Down
nothing so simple so easy so unchanging

Family
is a joining of paths
this family
our family
the family into which we pour ourselves
the family which today pours into us
this great big and ever growing family
is a mixing of waters
a marriage of currents
a swirling swimming swiftly-moving
melee
maddening sometimes, yes
but mainly
wondrous
wondrous and wise

And
like rainwater rivers 
a family
seeks balance
leaves tracks
cleaves to itself
gathers into clear clean pools
deep enough to last the dry season
reason
(on this wonderful day!)
for me
for us
to trust 
the rain will 
always 
always 
come