The rain comes as a shock
to the dry Texas land

The soil can no longer remember
a time where its thirst was quenched.

The hills are painted with clear intentions
and the earth smells of a fresh upheaval.

The roots dig profoundly into the planet
and extend from below to the cosmos above.

Awakened, within the terra firma,
a seraph reaches up into the leaves
and caresses the lush branches.

How long it has been
since the being could attain
and comprehend
the artistry of this world.

At the touch of life,
the being steps out
of its transcendental state unlocked from

her chains
of depleted soil.

She is cautious to be held in the bough.
But a flower blooms merely at her gaze
and obsequiously transitions from colorless
to the deepest amethyst ever beheld by eyes.

Down it comes, drenching the forest,
spreading its nourishment.
Small crystals appearing as tears
brighten the cheeks of the seraph's smile.

Color
rushes into her skin and she appears
to blossom
in her comfort and confidence,
mirroring that flower.

Snuggly she rests her seasoned heart
within the boughs she's only just
begun to fathom and question.

Is this renaissance ephemeral?
Even if it is, this,
this child of the earth knows the rain
is a feeling – and it's ineffable.