After Drought

Upon the tranquil evening suddenly falls
The long-awaited passion of the rain,
A gushing silver torrent, spilling
On spear-like orchard boughs, where calls
A blackbird, over and over again,
Its joyous liquid note, filling
The cracked dry earth with that miraculous wine,
And making green the moss on flinty walls
And easing me of this constricting pain:
The heart's dry living death that knows the sign,
This leaping up of long lain dormant things-
Rain, splendid rain, how I can bless you now!
The moon rides up, a new and shining shilling,
While poised upon the silver-shining bough
The blackbird, out of timeless joy, still sings.

poem by Douglas Gibson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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