Interim

We woke to early morning South Carolina rain in a new house part of a developing subdivision winding through green grass like an ugly brown gash along the naturally manicured eastern outdoors practically screaming about the injustice modern civilization is further perpetuating against the earth with pollution and litter and expansion so often inflicting damage absent-mindedly or unintentionally or unknowingly the same way we can harm sometimes with our words without consideration for conscience when we’re so focused on what is happening to us and no one else.

I sat on the back porch in the noise of the falling water waiting to watch the sun rise and kiss the earth with its gaze to remind what feels forgotten of passion and ambition and life if for nothing more than to reassure the disheartened of promises once whispered in dreams returning someday to light up the hard edges of the boxes in our minds subconsciously trapping and subduing our enthusiasm, choking out the color bursting in front of our eyes as life gives birth to life for many reasons if not only to provide hope in the darkness and respite in the exhaustion, standing strong in the face of decay as if to say

-beauty continues to allow darkness a foothold so all that is righteous can repeatedly win-

their constant battle just to give everyone looking for a purpose somewhere to look when the rain is pooling at our feet.

The porch becomes a refuge in a sun shower as the devil beats his wife, a metaphor as simple as the sun prevailing over the powerful gloom of the rain is enough to remind us to move on, give up the heartache and pain and confusion and darkness we’ve been holding onto and trying in vain to understand for too long now.