… And still the syllables of water whisper:
The wheel of cloud whirs slowly: while we wait
In the dark room; and in your heart I find
One silver raindrop,—on a hawthorn leaf,—
Orion in a cobweb, and the World.
~Conrad Aiken from “Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise the Rain”

I lay silent under the comforter listening, listening to the constancy of rain.  No let up, no diminishing, just all night long whispering in the dark — water falling from on high.

John Updike says: “Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.”

So I feel blessed by communion with this rainy grace, lots and lots and lots of descending grace, a zillion silver drops falling together to bathe my parched and thirsty world, keep it cleansed and refreshed.

I look for –and find — the world in a raindrop.