The Wet World

Does it have to be true?
That sons and daughters of the light
The warm fertile valleys of a millenia ago
Who felt the warmth of summer
Year round
On their backs and shoulders
On their bellies lying in meadows
While making love
Those whose sweat was as natural as Breathing
Have to go into hiding when
The skies cloud up?

Does major depression have to ensue
On dreary days when chill causes
Sweaters to come on
And cups of tea and coffee are
God-sends?

I admit
As such a daughter
I fly high on warm cloudless days
When heat is seen in shimmers
Across the desert
And night is an old friend
Who scampers out to dance
Under a silver moon

But these mountains need water
And so I celebrate with them
The bear the mountain goat
The dear the mountain lion
The mystic wolf
If he still lives here
(which I think he does)
Rejoice
Berries grow
Streams swell
So yes yes
Bring it on
The juice box of life
The rain
In torrents
Descending from cracks in the sky
Onto the parched parched
Earth