Rain and Prayer
It has rained all day -- a cold spring rain that feels more like a fall rain. It feels like the beginning of cold, not the end. It has inspired me to snuggle down in my comforter. I have had lots of tea. Read some. Cooked some. Domestic things. And every time I get inside the comforter, all snuggled into the warmth of it, with the sound of rain pelting my windows outside, every time - -I pray. There is something about the cadence of rain that is like prayer -- random but persisting. Or maybe it is the safe feeling I have when it is cold and rainy outside and cozy inside. But I love the rain. I love watching it, smelling air that is wet with it, seeing it make the world glisten.
When it is warm I stroll through it, and take long deep breaths of its earth-scent.
And it makes me pray. The prayers are quick - little pitter-patter prayers, snapshot prayers, snippets of intention -- but prayers nonetheless.
The rain is like the sound of a celestial telegraph key, and my prayers the dots and dashes that sing along its staccato.