the great storm darkened the eastern sky
clouds curling like jet exhaust
folding under the weight of 8 days of rain
the world would teach us to be
brave. we turned ourselves starboard
we turned toward we turned
toward #katyamills
the great storm darkened the eastern sky
clouds curling like jet exhaust
folding under the weight of 8 days of rain
the world would teach us to be
brave. we turned ourselves starboard
we turned toward we turned
toward #katyamills
oh the dawn when all thats wrong
in the world made right
the light come even into the sky
i could stay with you here for ever
and ever. been so long since it rained i
think im gonna cry #katyamills
walking
wide awake eyes
blue eyeliner jumping like a heartbeat
the blonde valet
the architecture lopes to the water’s edge
in this uphill town
time for café au lait
feels like rain again the ships
they head to sea
#katyamills
california. 4am
coffee rims the paper
six months searching the sky
headlights found rain
i turned down the radio
march of death by tally i
raised the windows 2 inhale
the breath of life
the rains came today
at long last
thank god thank
god the rains
finally the world looks like
how i often feel
inside
i give thanks to god for all what makes my day to day more than okay. my love. my health. my cats. my work. my family. coffee. tea. my friends. the california sun. the moon. the rain. the freedom to express myself in any small way.
What a week was over polly wog. Why, we were only just begun when the rain, the rain gave way to sun!
I was grown from the earth, in my mother whose very life depended on the earth, the vegetables pushing out of mineral soil.
I faced the sun gave life to the plants, like another plant was i. For when the sun fell, again and again i found my head down in the dark, gaze to the ground, eyelashes a flutter then clasped shut for the night.
Many a fire came over my soul, burning through all of my being. For a time, as a child, they tried to put me out. Still i burned. Incendiary. Until natural i burned myself out.
Only the rain that emboldened the soil to create its next wonder, could put out our fires.
Like a period puts out a sentence.
Like a woman puts out a candle.
Like a man puts out a hunger.
Like poetry and prayer extinguish the thirst.
The rain came yesterday, and washed away all the oil and grime. Washed away what had collected into a film, all summer long. Off the streets and off my mind. And maybe yours. I was having trouble with my thinking, and trouble with my voice. I was feeling disconnected. Until the rain came. Yesterday.
The rain came down nice and hard, yesterday. Processed the film, and exposed it to light. Washed my mind clean of all the residue: the little resentments, the fears, the flashbacks, the trauma. The nicotine and the sugar. The commercial jingles. The internet trolls. The haters. The dogs. The voyeurs. The pigs. The pretenders. The cravings. And all the other petty little troubles that were weighing on me. All summer long.
September rain. And boy, did it rain! For about ten minutes, there was nothing else happening. Everything stopped, and everyone stopped to listen to the rainfall. Here in Sacramento. The best ten minutes all the day long. Sacred.
The rain fall was sacred. And I looked into my kittens eyes, reflected off the rain. And they, into mine. We were all curious and smiling, and maybe you, too. The rain gave my kittens the best ten minutes of their young lives. Their first rain. My kittens gave me fresh eyes, to see.
The rain washed away the trouble in the world. I saw it. I saw my troubles and maybe yours, stream down the gutters and out into the street. Away, away, away. I heard all the noise, all summer long, go under. The noise. I saw it drown. The noise from the advertisements, in television and radio jingles. The noise from the images, too. Moving away, away, away.
The rain fell hard, yesterday. I swear I saw it! I heard it! And all our troubles were washed away. And then the rain was gone, like it never came at all. And humidity set in, because the air was full of moisture. To keep our world honest. To keep our world sacred. To help our spirits, and all of life.
And earlier today, almost 24 hours later… the sweet memory of it all dropped. Dropped from my senses, right deep into my heart. And my heart dialed up this message, and sent it back into the airwaves. Postage prepaid, with insurance.
The rain. I love the rain. And how it fills up my spirit. And fills up the air. Then somehow mysteriously, in that alchemical process… flows back to source.