Last night it did rain here on the Ligurian coast of Italy. I heard it falling hard all night, waking and dreaming. So loud that it obscured the sound of waves. Still falling this morning, ending late afternoon with a brilliant burst of sun. Tonight I hear the waves again, and the birds were trilling in the sinking sun.
Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me
by Mary Oliver
Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.
