A Rainy Night
It’s dripping out there under the poplars tonight--my kind of night. The air is sparkling with the freshly washed scent of a late spring rain and the honeysuckle has added a spritz of sweetness. It all rinses the distress out of my mind/body and I feel like snuggling up to something sacred.
So I find my mind easing away from its moorings and drifting out toward the numinous edges of existence. The clicking of the keyboard is like oars dipping in water or the squeaking of the oarlocks. Every word is a stroke out away from the pilings of the material world and my muscles droop with relaxation like the gentle pitch of a wooden hull into the shallow troughs of gentle water.
I need this semi drifting into the darkness of God. It refreshes and heals me as it closes in like a cool veil. I wish I had a tent to sleep in tonight. The smattering of rain and the flapping tugs of the breeze on the fabric would help me feel a part of it, which is exactly where I need to be.
Thanks be for rainy nights.
posted by Ken Bradstock @ 22:33
2 Comments
2 Comments:
Lovely to hear that tone in your reflections again. Maybe the rainy nights come when we each of us need them the most. Hope the healing coolness sinks in and does its work. Thank you for offering us what you do.
came here by way of Graceful Presence. I think we share a love for rainy nights. There are few things I love more than opening all the windows when it's storming, a journal on my lap, a glass of wine in hand, and perhaps some Miles Davis in my ear. There's a certain romanticism, a melancholy romanticism that comes to me and feeds my soul on those nights. BLISS!
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