rain, I pray
will bring bountiful your harvest

may it wash
(most) the grit that
could not cry away

leave you shining, new,
birthed and caught by your own two hands

reach inside through fallow & fold

blackberries
honeysuckle
volunteer tomatoes
poke &
dandelion fluff

& deep

there it is
that sharp seed of glass, polished pearlescent transformed
by fire & flood & torrential time

& pluck