The air began to sing First in loose, irregular notes A twanging ping A muffled splat She was warming up a voice Long disused in the summer heat Til each note comes clear and loud A low rumble trembles below An orchestra of sound Her soft perfume of quenching dust Rising from the ground She sings of ponds, and rivers and lakes Of gutters and streams on stone She sings of life gushing free In paths all of its own She sings of seeds unfurling Of life returned and life forgot Her harmony of life renewed Resonates in each raindrop
Inspired by @theinkwell's poetry challenge from the prompt 'the day the rains came'
