Even in the desert, it rains. Life,
always hidden, springs anew
from every branch and plant,
fragrance blooming from creosote,
the scent of fresh-washed soil rising
as rains mend the parched earth
and rally wizened leaves;
then comes the rainbow,
marking a promise fulfilled.
Via #dverse
…my speech shall distil as the dew, as the small rain upon the tender herb…
There are no small rains in the desert, where every drop is treasured. If only our words could be as valued and life-giving.
As I looked through my blog posts, I found a disproportionate number of references to rain. The above poem was created by combining phrases from a few of them.
....Bilocalalia.... 
[…] car windows, a final rush of the day, then I remember that no rain is predicted till the first week of […]
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Interesting that you are partial to writing about rain. Have you given thought to why this might be?
Ps. Lovely poem and picture too
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I only started writing about rain when I moved to the desert.
I’ll have to look back at the poems I wrote in humid Virginia to see what I was writing about then.
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😀😀interesting😀. Please do look back. I’ll love to know.😀
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I love how you have crafted previous writing into a new quadrille, Denise, and the translation of feelings about rain in one place to another. I’ve never experienced a desert but you’ve brought yours to me. I love the image of life springing anew from every branch and plant,. The lines that made me sit up are:
‘fragrance blooming from creosote,
the scent of fresh-washed soil rising
as rains mend the parched earth’.
I’m still breathing them!
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Thank you for your attentive reading and kind words.
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Deserts need rain as well. Since this sun is soon out I can see how there is likely a rainbow somewhere.
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I love the smell of the rain in the desert and how much more appreciated it is. Maybe it’s that appreciation you feel now that you’re living in the parched desert. Enjoyed your quadrille.
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Thank you!
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Yes… the scent of rain on dry soil is wonderful… even in the desert.
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[…] grand plan was to leave the rainstorms behindwith the seasonal threats of sliding under the sea,so we headed West to a blank canvas, […]
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[…] catchy clap-along tuneringing in my empty nest,too busy chasing storm cloudsto notice when the rainbows […]
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