Watering My Words

A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning. ~ James Dickey

Everything needs a certain amount of rain, including my writing. This week it finally started to rain, and although all life in the Sierra Nevada foothills needed it, I especially did. Perhaps it was the change in the weather, or that deep human need for winter, or the dark, cozy nesting reaction I get when it is stormy, but whatever the reason, the rain unlocked the dry, infertile ground that kept the creative process inside.

Drop upon drop, the ground relented; words flowed out like hungry earthworms. Birds swooped down, adding color and song. Flowers bloomed, trees budded, and in the dark winter storm, I held the finest bouquet of prose. I gathered all I could, collecting words for future days, when the weather is sunny, and I am too impatient to sit inside.