I will send you rain and low rumbling thunder to waken you while you lie
in a warm room, on soft sheets under the light breeze of a fan
and feel that all the world rises up for you.
But you cannot stay curled forever.
I will send a purple sky to bring you out.
And there will be violence. I cannot say there won’t. There will be danger.
You will be exposed as you lean out the window to feel the truth of the air carrying rain.
Until you return with a weightier gratitude upon reentering the warm room, to lie again
on soft sheets under the light breeze of a fan and feel risen up unto the world,
writing it all down – the words as your offering.
And then I will send you rain.