September 25, 2013

It’s over.

No.

Not the drouth.

Summer.

Officially over.

Autumn took its place.

Scooted in on Sunday.

Made itself to home.

Bringing cool mornings.

With rain to beat the band last week.

A nice send-off to Summer.

And a fortunate herald to Fall.

Must be the season of the witch.

Manna from heaven.

Liquid gold.

The perpetual topic of conversation.

Rain.

We pray for it.

We wait for it.

We give thanks for it.

As it falls from above.

Without legislation.

Taxation.

Discrimination.

Registration.

Proclamation.

Administration.

Regimentation

Violation.

Recrimination.

Or indoctrination.

Rain.

Pure as the driven snow.

Independent.

Free for all.

It falls where it will.

When it will.

Stays as long as it wants.

Moves as fast as it likes.

Favors no one.

Answers to no one.

Owes no one.

And no one owns it.

Rain never cowers.

Or backs up.

Or looks over its shoulder.

It endures.

Like faith, hope, and charity.

Rain.

La lluvia.

May las gotas de lluvia keep falling on our heads.

That’s Mason.

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