• advent journal: I dress myself with rain

    by  • December 10, 2013 • advent journal, hope, poetry • 4 Comments

    The barrage of ice and snow that runs from Texas to New England has brought us only rain the last few days, still the heavy blanket oforiginal-crying-rain-water-puddle grey clouds, the persistent drip of the drizzle, and the still shortening daylight have been their own perfect storm for me. I have worked hard to be industrious in doing several little undone things around the house as my own rage against the dying of the light. And I’ve been cooking and writing and reading. This morning, I picked up poemcrazy because it felt like the day would need a poem and found this line —

    I dress myself with rain

    — which I decided to borrow as my writing prompt.

    I dress myself with rain

    make a hat of the clouds

    (they shape quite easily)

    and a scarf of the wind

    a coat of many shadows

    with pockets of light

    and run barefoot

    through the puddles . . .

    yes, it’s almost winter

    but what’s the point

    of dressing with rain

    if I don’t run barefoot

    through the puddles?

    Peace,

    Milton

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    http://donteatalone.com

    4 Responses to advent journal: I dress myself with rain

    1. Annie Hammon
      December 10, 2013 at 10:25 am

      Love it! Muchly. And we ran through puddles, jumped over them, and stomped in them to make the water fly!

      • December 11, 2013 at 11:50 am

        Exactly, Annie.

    2. Alice
      December 10, 2013 at 12:43 pm

      Do you recall Mandy’s call to confession last week? Something along the lines of taking off our scarves and coats of loneliness, pride, etc. Maybe there is a theme among the Pilgrims this week.

    3. December 12, 2013 at 8:34 am

      And when our tears turn to puddles, we ought finally dive in, soak ’em up, look to the sun… yes, to the Son who provides the only rainbow, a symbol of sure & certain hope, on which to build a solid future as our future is, but all we have left, till the next watery stone, and such is the cycle on which we roll!

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