Latter Rain

"font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#c0c0c0;">Latter Rain

Heaven seems closed. It's done that before. The ground crackles until pleas can be heard from every break. There isn't time to be concerned with the dust underneath the feet, the ill taste on the tongue or the creases around the eyes. There is something rumbling behind the clouds. It can be felt on the floor of the belly and on back of the knees. The freshness alarms the nose the way a trumpet preludes a new day. This is what you look for when the night season seems long. When the answer doesn't come in the wind, when you stand at the gate waiting to hear it thunder--waiting to feel the coolness of the rain.