Wet Grace

I knew you were coming, friend rain.

In the field wet with sweat, I saw 

you hovering in the distant gray

as if you were gathering strength

to come my way to renew and bless

the work of my hands on the land

and for this gift, I give you thanks.

 

With tractor now sheltered, and I

settled in a chair on the porch,

I heard what was seen coming

from the distant there to here

and when I knew you were near

I wanted to jump from the porch

and share a dance of joy with you.

 

But, old friend, such days are gone.

Father time and old stiff knees 

have taken away my two step,

but still I slowly rise and go

out from under the roof above

to the air now more than filled

with falling baptismal waters.

 

What is old now knows the new

that comes from being washed

with that not earned, but given

to this weary and worn out soul.

Wet now with what has come,

I raise these aching two hands

in praise to the One who gives.