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