A Summer Rain

A light summer rain today, damp and cold

enough to keep us inside, except

we venture out, the dog and I, walking,

just to get away and to clear our heads

clouded by a rainy day inside, a touch of cabin fever;

and we stop beneath a canopy of leaves overhead,

full and green above us and dry, quiet, too,

except for the falling rain, rhythmic and musical,

a music born of a summer rain pattering on dry leaves

and the quiet of venturing out, stopping

as we do now, beneath this canopy of green,

a Chuppah wedding us to the earth itself,

earth’s rhythms on a rainy day reminding us

we are foreigners here, seeking our place,

a place promised us, venturing out,

the dog and I, quiet, except for the falling rain,

beneath a canopy of leaves overhead, full and green.