field notes

...the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying, 
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud, 
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth! 
That’s what it said
as it dropped, 
smelling of iron, 
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below...

-Mary Oliver, from "Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me"