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.

 

 

 

 

Ron Starbuck

Copyright 2011