its where being broken
coaxes the spirit to dance
to psalms spoken soft
while gazing up
urging a cloud to spell
your name, or form a
puffed dog,
instead it rains, light drops
harmless dribbles,
one shape beyond mist
with a flat soaking on coats
and hats, dripping off
to the ground, soaking in,
watering weeds and flowers
with equal favor
Roger Singer 