2022 Hour 1 “Cyclops, Knowing and the Rain on Etna”
The joy of it, my face turned to the sky
Soft rain falling like a benediction
Day after day, night after night, week upon week
So much – so SO much
That even here, atop the hill the land is sodden with it, my feet sinking
The rain though, is warm, welcoming
So warm, blood warm
Warmer even? Warmer than me?
Warm like love, like joy
like the embrace of the world, the earth, the mother Gaia – all
three?
A madness overtakes thought, me, reason
Shucking raincoat, sock and shoes – I spy a bright gold-tone potting table beckoning
Taking it up, I heft it out onto the lush jewel green grass into a clear open space
Feet sinking deep into the warm wet welcoming earth with its added weight
Canary yellow set against jewel green under a metal grey sky, and I: clad in white, clamber up and tip my face into the warm, warmer, warmest, welcoming
rain
Rain
RAIN
Eventually I come to know
To KNOW
That I am small, but part of this, all of this
That is beautiful, and still terrible
That is can be warm, yet need not be
That is can be all extremes, and everything in between
That it can create and destroy
That is simply IS, and so am I
That it is immense, and I am not
That I cannot predict it, and that’s ok
That there is a joy in that knowing, that accepting
That there was, and is, and remains – joy in the ever unfolding not-knowing
Merry – LordCricket 2022 poetry marathon