comes down softly,
gentle on the dry grass,
the hardened ground,
giving everything a chance
to open up, to take it in
And we could say we've earned the right
to soften, to rest from all our work,
behind the droplets on the windshield,
becoming rivulets now,
becoming drumbeats,
till they convince us
to make our way home.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 18, 2021
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