Right As Rain

I have a lingering cold. We've all been sick. I can't seem to get inspired about anything. I did manage to clean out the pantry today when I brought home groceries. Yes, this is what I have to brag about today. A tidy pantry. A tidy pantry with three bags of flour, two bags of sugar, and three jugs of apple juice. You'd think I was preparing for the end of days with as much food as I have on hand. Yet I seem to be at a loss most nights on what to make for dinner. I can't seem to think straight or remember much. I owe about half a dozen people phone calls and am so far behind on some personal homework that it is just embarrassing.

But, I'm going to give myself a break. (Maybe my body got sick because I needed to rest.)

I am going to tell myself that something (good) is happening. I am going to believe that cells are recharging for some great new thing on the horizon. I am going to quietly and persistently move forward with faith that some day soon, I will get my game back. Someday I will feel right as rain again.

The Rain
By Robert Creeley
All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it

that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me

something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.