Your goodness is a rain shower,
the kind that happens on a sunny day
and makes people wonder-
Where on earth did it come from?
It descends from a bright blue sky,
nourishing the ground,
and cooling my hot, dry skin,
without casting a single shadow.
Crystal drops scatter light until the ground is greener
and the beauty in everything
goes from a whisper to a birdsong.
Where does your goodness come from?
Your nimble hands
as they run through your hair
or tap them pensively on your thighs?
Your lips,
parted in thought,
always prepared to question?
Your goodness is such that I've begun searching for it
in dark alleys
and scowling faces,
because your kind of goodness
comes as mysteriously
as rain from a cloudless sky.