Rain, a poem by Sister Ariadne

Rain

It’s what the light did to them that spoke to me of You.

After last night’s deluge, the porch lamp beaming brightly, the droplets…

What could be less personal than rain, its anonymous aggregation

of water molecules, its sheer bulk, in whatever form:  gentle mist,

drenching showers, brutal torrents, yet last night, the droplets…

Time’s relentless downpour.  Soft or hard, the days stream by

in a nameless, faceless blur, yet last night, the droplets fell

slowly, one by one, ponderous with light, like a woman heavy

with child, like the Virgin making her slow way to Bethlehem

where she will give birth, in time-bound flesh, to the Timeless Light:

Rain

divine

for humankind

and the droplets

each and every one

the droplets

bear Your Face

my Christ,

my God.