A plea for rain

              Oh Jehovah I stood outside waiting. Inhaling
All that was sour just to absorb the beauty of rapidly
moving white and gray clouds.

               A silent prayer I cried out in my mind. Oh
just the harshness of a storm to clear away the
stench of the world today. At least a clearing of dust,
powdered green from my car.

              Oh just a hope to cheer the face from a solid
line to a curve. A slight one would be fine. Oh how
the aroma of rain soothes my spirit, calms my mind.

              Softly I inhale once more before I tip toe
back up concrete stairs. Only to enter apartment
long enough to slide back down into gold, tapestry
highback chair.

              Watching the leaves rustle heavy against
my window. I hope, I pray harder.

               The flicker of lights. Yet does that mean
it was because I bumped the table or is it a notice
of a storm grumbling nearby?

              Onto the last thirty minutes of Saawariya.
Hmm a lasting song of hope pours as a smile forms
hight points upon cheekbones.

              Ah ha one more time I glance outside as
darkness takes hold of the sky. The division has been
covered.

             Ah wind lifts the straightened, frizzy coppery
strands to play, to dance. Ah I fuss to contain and
still I silently laugh. Oh to watch as a fiery light glows
around my face. All of my own.

            Hmm. Oh Jehovah a song of praise, if not
one for rain. Holding onto the hope of a clear, earthy
aroma. Softly intertwined with musk and dew of the
wet bark. Listen. Inhale.

            Still I hope. Please Jehovah rain upon me
tonight?

           Will you, too, hope, pray with me for rain,
a storm? Soft accents to pull at the soul and uplift
the spirit?

         Would you do that for me?