Rivulets of newly fallen water run over soil

now drenched as the rain pours down, traces

of their tracks filling with slushy mud that

gathers and moves as one mass toward rivers

soon overflowing until they can hold no more.

The rain pours down, pushing against banks

That founder to the point of collapse.

The mucky mire washes over highways and

into fields, gathering more slop as it compels

everything in its path into a churning wall of

destruction moving forward as the rain pours

down, turning all into a wreckage of concrete

wedges smashing into broken houses and trees

bobbing over ravaged cars and bodies.

While floods have always been with us, we have

not always been so disconnected that we barely

notice the earth’s cycles are beset with spasms

of too much or not enough. Let us walk outside,

reach out our hands to feel the air and the earth,

look up at the stars, and breath in our awareness

of such overwhelming abundance.