sonora2sonoma

The rain began.

The rain of yearnings long suppressed,

of promises unkept and rainbows unappreciated.

It rained and it rained and it rained.

The streams washed over the land

and the woodland creatures, huddled together,

sought refuge in the trees, cold and hungry . . .

Until, at long last

the torrent ended, the sun returned

and a new rainbow,

appearing as if from nowhere, said

with a voice like threads of silver

hanging lightly

on the morning breeze,

I am here!

And, just like that,

the storm was over.

Tim Konrad

2020.04.02