I named her the rain moon because when she rose into the warm night sky, gusts of wild wind came with her. She quickly pulled on a gown of thick dark grey clouds. The wind whipped trees danced violently. Their branches bent downward to kiss the earth, and then swept upward to the honour the heavens, with only the strength of their spirit holding them together. Then the lightning came, deep shards of cold fire that slashed across the clouds. And then, the rain…
Real rain, wild rain
Yet soothing, like a soft and cool shower of dreams pouring from the dark night
The blessing that we’d been praying for
I’d almost forgotten what it was like to stand in the blustery shadows of mystery just moments before a storm. I’d forgotten what it was like to fall asleep to its pitter patter lullaby and to wake up to the gentle rumble of thunder.
Dear rain moon, a lot more is needed and although it may be days before the next shower comes, I am grateful for the blessing of a tiny answered prayer.