It rained here recently, heavy summer storms which provided welcome relief for drought-stricken farmers and threatened to cause flooding in many areas. There’s nothing quite like heavy rain after a spell of hot weather, and at such times I am always reminded of one of my favourite poems, by New Zealand poet Hone Tuwhare (1922-2008), simply titled ‘Rain’.
I can hear you making
small holes in the silence
rainIf I were deaf
the pores of my skin
would open to you
and shutAnd I should know you
by the lick of you
if I were blind:the steady drum-roll
sound you make
when the wind dropsthe something
special smell of you
when the sun cakes
the groundbut if I should not
hear
smell or feel or see youyou would still
define me
disperse me
wash over me
rain
A lot of rain worldwide at the moment isn’t there. I really love this poem – it is so new yet traditional at the same time. Great photo too
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Thank you, although I can’t take credit for the photo (google stock photo, if I recall).
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