When the rain pours down

onto my shoulders and hair

I run for cover.

But in this desert there is no shelter

except for a scrawny piñon or juniper tree.


I have no choice but to let the rain drench

my t-shirt and shorts, soak into my skin

and my very bones.


I slow my pace and suddenly sense

the glory of this saturation.

The drops cool my skin

and settle my heart.


With this immersion, the Beloved

nourishes my inner garden.

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