There’s a special sound to rain <br />when you haven’t heard it in <br />long, dry months of a drought. <br />It’s the sound of a blessing; <br />the same joy one experiences <br />receiving a most special gift. <br />And you recognize how much you miss <br />the sound of it in your streets <br />hitting the pavement, <br />pounding on rooftops. <br />It splashes the dirt from cars <br />and runs down gutters <br />as it happily soaks <br />and drenches the land; <br />even cleansing the very air <br />in its crisp, cool wetness. <br />The earth gratefully refreshed, <br />is humbled before such needful bounty; <br />I too feel as though my cup runneth over.<br /><br />Carolyn Brunelle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rain-65/
