15 September 2013

Sabbath Rain

There’s no telling when
this will end—

the sound of snapping
fingers beyond measure
and cadence,
crisp

dropping small loud kisses
on flapping leaves
and bending grass
while eaves
creak from water’s smack—
crack concrete pride,
slide to soil beneath
the hardened heart—
inside, my hearth
is a single candle flame
while outside God rests
in water too vast
and small to track,
falling,
falling,
falling,
with no hour appointed
for mercies indeterminate.

Let these raindrops tarry,
tap your foot in time
for the swelling sky—
the cloud sends her children
to the aged earth
with no plan but play—
let there be human silence
for such divine music
when Sabbath rains.

There is no telling when






Sabbath rain
a poem by troy cady




















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