I could smell rain saturating air, infused by gardens of wet mint, rosemerry, and sage
As I sat on my concrete porch—its tinkering on my rooftop and dance of iridescent droplets free falling sung in unison with my soul
As my heart quickened, I could sense the nighthawk near
I envisioned him looming in the pinewoods above
His beady eyes of black beckoning my heart
His talons festering
His beak quaking and scolding
He keeps me from sleep
He calls my inner child’s name
For a moment all is still as tapestries freeze upon my mind’s creative wonder
Rain infuses my every sense of being
The nighthawk nods with approval
silent, singing chord’s of inspiration resume as rain forges spring’s beauty