As I was thinking about today's blog topic, my mind kept wandering to poems I've written over the years. Specifically about weather. Especially about the kind of weather I like - cloudy, rainy, cool. It turns out there's a word for people like me: pluviophile - a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.
The kind of weather I don't like - sunny, cloudless, hot. In fact, when we go without at least some clouds in the sky for a couple of days, I get restless. If we go without clouds and/or at least wind for more than a few days, I get cranky. If we go without rain for several weeks, I get sad. I'm serious. I feel depressed.
You've heard of seasonal affective disorder? People not getting enough sunlight in winter? I don't get that. I mean, I really don't get that. So when a beautiful sunny day shows up, and people are saying "what a beautiful day it is!" I do my best to smile and say "it sure is." As much as I prefer clouds and rain, I don't want to rain on their parade. I'm really glad for those people on those days. And besides, I do want to honor the great beauty in creation on those days. But give me rain and clouds any day. Every day. And if not rain, then at least clouds. Especially in summer:
I always knew I was different. No wonder I loved living in London so much. And in the Middle East so little.
And so, today I share my weather related poems, hoping they nourish you like a fresh rain shower after a drought. Or a sunny day after a storm. Whatever floats your boat.
Winter's blowing snow
Spring's fragrant grow
Summer's morning glow
Autumn's letting go
Oh the comfort and calm of this cloudy morn, the soothing softness of new day born.
The rain, when it comes, joins the song of the birds, my well being, peacefulness, needing no words.
Would that it were like this day after day, clouds scudding 'cross skies, going on their way.
The sound - rain falling - my very soul feeds; I hunger, I thirst for the nourishing beads.
Of water, that which I love so dear, to feel, and hear it continue near.
As it falls from the sky. It nourishes earth. It brings new life, for me new birth.
Oh this rainy morning bed
Claims my body, toes to head.
Comfort seen and comfort felt,
Lying here, no speck of guilt.
The thunder rumbles…
There is something that must be heard.
The rain pours from the sky.
Nature herself is crying.
The storm intensifies:
Listen to me!
Listen to me!
Crack! open the past...
Crack! open the wounds...
Flash! to see and be surprised by what follows...
It is dark.
It is scary.
It is consuming.
It is cathartic.
It will have its way and...
I observe it.
I do not change it.
It changes me.
For the better.
And for that I am deeply grateful.
Summer Said Bye-Bye
Summer said bye-bye last night, whisked away by storm.
It's cooler in the night time now, days not hot, just warm.
My soul, relieved, can breathe again,through nature's changing flow.
Soon it will be autumn time, the season to let go.
I watch the leaves falling in the
Bright-crisp autumn air.
I want to catch each one in my hands
And whisper "thank you for teaching me about letting go."
And I understand that
The trees must let go too;
That leaves them crying.
I haven't written a poem about winter… yet. But I will tell you one thing. I ALWAYS make a snow angel.