Where do butterflies go when it’s raining?
Flowers are covered with raindrops.
The streets are full of umbrellas.
I stopped by to look
at the crab apple and swollen river
I could not resist
to take some pictures
pardon my lack of experience.
A solitary bird in darkening sky
The day before spring
Rain becomes abundant almost unforgiving
With mudslides and falling trees
Flooded roads and swollen rivers
After years of drought
We can not choose
Between two calamities
We can only accept
What we are given
And with gratitude.
We cry for sorrow and for joy
We look ahead with clear eyes.
The rain pours and storm is coming
Snow covers the mountains
Rivers may overflow
Inside is festive
And keeping warm.
Don’t cry that summer is gone
autumn will riot with colors and light
you will love wiping raindrops on your brow.
note: raining in Napa.
note: It rained Saturday night and Sunday morning.The mountains are all white.
I watched children rushed to the window
wow, they said,
awed by lightning and thunder.
The rain fell light and heavy.
The wind and trees played
wild and wicked game.
Where are the birds? one child asked.
How do they dry their wings?asked the other.
In refugee camps
what questions do the children ask?
The rain started last night
and still falling
wakes me with the tapping
sounds of drops in my sleep.
Light drifting between the shutters
touching the bedcovers, books, dresser
teasing my eyebrows
The wind, luminous, musing the shadows
the rising and falling roars of waves
dancing in my mind.
What’s experience or feeling,
sound or movement of a dream?
Do you hear raindrops sliding over the stones?
Do you see things that are not there
like a red sky on a rainy day?