by Leslie McLeod
As rain you come,
pouring down from above,
washing, refreshing, drenching me
Staccato song delights my ears;
you paint dusty earth in glossy hue.
Droplets touch my thirsty tongue;
I smell wet loam, rich and new.
I laugh and twirl
as you fill this parched place.
Barriers melt and float away
as rain unites my neighbor and me.
Smiling eyes meet, a secret shared—
of rain-disguised divinity.
Living near Southern California coast, Leslie’s artistic leanings provide an alter ego to her role as co-owner of a tech company with her husband. She picks up her pen again after a hiatus to raise their two children and develop a passion for painting. After losing her parents a few years ago, she is writing a book to help other women walk through that painful season without the added burden of unresolved relational regret. She emerges from 40 years wandering in her own see-saw wilderness, elated to hear and share the voice of her soul’s Beloved. Connect with her on Facebook and at www.lamcleod.com.