I love rainy days. So much that can't be done. The constant background drone of the precipitation. The thunder is a comfort. As long as the electricity doesn't go out; but if it doesn't, just more constraints.
Time to focus. Things feel less overwhelming. Ambient music. Acceptance.
On rainy days she bakes bread.
She cares for things. There is time for conversation. There's time to think about the future. I like the wrinkles forming from the corners of her eyes. They're from laughter. They're from wisdom.
The children play with each other. Then she takes them out to splash in the puddles. Joy in all things. Joy in the other.
I make one trip, to walk the stations of the cross.
I take a short nap. Sleep comes easy.
I eat the bread. Too much of the bread.
I consider all the encouraging things I've heard over the last few days. I think about words. Words don't come easy.
The earth is now soaked, the river full. It reflects the light from the city on its wide, still surface. I think of all this city has taken from me. I think of all it has given to me.
If my prayer goes unanswered, that's alright
If my path fills with darkness and there's no sign of light
Let me praise you for the good times, let me hold your banner high
Until the hills are flattened and the rivers all run dry