Ron Starbuck - Author and Poet
Every day of my life I want to be standing in the
shadow of a good clean storm, where the rain comes down so
hard and bright it washes the soul pure, to leave it gleaming
and polished in all its tenderness. Where the grace of the lighting
reflects off of every rain drop.
And then pours over the body like a holy baptism and sacrament
of faith that calls out in name to every saint that was ever born.
Where the thunder awakens us to life, and we breathe in
everything of this earth that is good and dear, absolutely perfect
in our many imperfections.
Where angels enter in without fear, to carry us into the
still wholesome heart of God, beating in union with our own hearts.
Do you think you could live in such a way, where
nothing else matters, except the flower of yourself opening
up again and again, and then wider still,
to receive the blessing of this shower, as dark and loamy soil,
where our firmly planted feet rest?
But, where everything is as transparent and translucent
as the first day of your life, without apprehension, seeing as a revelation
from one moment to another, washed in the rain.