Another Raven and a Poem

5x7 inches, acrylic and collage on mat board

The weather here has finally decided to play nice.  The sun is shining, the sky is blue with only a few clouds, the breeze is comfortable.  No fierce winds, no pounding rain, no sauna-like heat and humidity.  I have a high school friend coming to visit, and a figure drawing studio this evening.  The world looks a little better today.

I've been reading a book of poetry by Linda Pastan called Traveling Light.  I got it from out library, but may need a copy for myself.  She speaks to me in the same way that Mary Oliver does, about nature, family, thoughts of mortality.  I thought I'd save one before I return the volume.

After a Month of Rain
by Linda Pastan

Everything I thought I wanted
is right here,
particularly when the sun
is making such a comeback,

and the lilac engorged
with purple has recovered
from its severe pruning,
and you will be back soon

to dispel whatever it is
that overtakes me like leaf blight,
even on a day like this.  I can still
hear the remnants of rain

in the swollen stream
beyond the house, in the faint
dripping under the eves,
persistent as memory.

And all the things I didn't think
I wanted, cut like the lilac back
to the root, push up again
from underground.