as i sat reading

as i sat reading

articles and websites all

dedicated to

addressing crises

of climate, community

and conscience in their

countless expressions,

i heard an unaccustomed

sound, as if someone

were typing, finger

by finger, on the porch roof.

my heart leapt as i

realized it was

the sweet sound of small raindrops,

sparse and delicate.

i rushed outside to

witness this rare moment and

catch a few on my

parched skin. tears burst forth

from my tired eyes, bigger

and more numerous

than those precious drops

of water falling from the

starry, clouded sky.

a million futures

flashed before my eyes, all of

them hard. none of them

anything like the

childhood i enjoyed. and, as

my heart ached for all

we have done and all

my grandchildren will never

know, i turned to the

grand oak who took up

nearly the entire sky

and offered my thanks

and apologies.

oh, these moments so precious,

so real. these moments

are what keep me here,

remembering, releasing,

reclaiming my self.

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