Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
~ Emily Dickinson
An abundant harvest is now ready to be reaped. After a year of steady rainfall and much fertilization, it's time to gather up the crop. I reflect on the raindrops today, each one an important person commissioned to help me achieve the impossible.
One morning, I went outside and looked into the heavens after praying for a miracle. All around me, the rain was falling. While staring into the clouds, a large raindrop struck me in the left eye, penetrating deep into my heart, becoming a part of me. My dried up bones and weary dreams became alive again when this raindrop pierced my very soul. A new passion for life flowed out of me, forever changing my destiny.
The puzzle is complete now. I see God's masterpiece in front of me. I see the future and I am ready. Thank you, Lord, for hearing my prayers. Thank you for the raindrops, especially for the one that smacked me in the eye while I was searching for hope. This endowment is like eating a pear, describing the marvelous sensation the way Hemingway would depict it...sweet, juicy, grainy, like sugary sand that dissolves in your mouth.
Never again will I publish without the aid of all the raindrops in my life, nor will my writing be without passion. I'm forever changed. These raindrops will dwell inside of me forever and my soul will sing joyfully all the days of my life. If you are one of these raindrops attached permanently to my heart, I thank God for you. You've made this year's harvest a bumper crop.