After the rain

I find the world more beautiful after it has rained.

When the clouds stay, heavy, grey and unmoving, only the suggestion of sunlight beyond.
When the rain is still in the air, threatening to come down again.
When the drops still hang from the ends of the leaves and branches, and you can hear the tap-tap from deep in the undergrowth.

A world in stasis, waiting between worlds, refreshed after the dry spell but not yet renewed.
Hope rising up from the deluge.

L. A. Davenport
blog comments powered by Disqus