Sunday, December 10, 2006

a poem out of season

Raindrop

Beloved raindrop fresh and fair
Perfuming this sad dry air
Bringing life and making green
All you see fit to wash clean

Do you recall from whence you came
The rushing flood, the hand of Cain
High and higher your power swept
Catching the tears Noah wept

Or do you remember God’s good grace
A rainbow’s thought upon your face
The mighty choir in which your tiny voice sings
Of naps and rest you’re sure to bring

-Luke W. Riddle

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I'm not usually one for poems - but that is great.

Unknown said...

Luke i love it.