The wind is silent and resting now it seems.

It’s allowing the sun to do its dazzling duty.

Lazy wind, we wait for your wondrous work again.

Will you later bring the clouds that give us rain?

The mornings are magic and mysterious times —

Cooler with fairy mist suspended in the valley

And webs of dew on the lawns and fields.

Too soon the full, fiery heat comes rising up.

It causes the eyes to blur and the air to shimmer.

Midday is motionless except for flitting butterflies.

The hay is high, an endless yellow landscape

Stretching to the pines and ancient apple orchard.

It steps daintily across the land breaking its promise.

Leaving before its job is done like a careless lover.

But sometime later it arrives with frightening force.

It tramples down the hay and tears off leaves.

It bruises the blossoms and empties the sky of life.

It pours in the dusty, open windows — wetting curtains.

It spills and over fills the shallow, metal roof gutters.

The peaceful Little River, down beyond the fields,

Becomes a waterway of rushing, fearful water.

Everyone knows it has ability to drench, destroy.

Then, later it is calm and simply satisfying —

The moderate friend who is constant and sweet smelling.

Then, the earth and all living things approve and rejoice,

While sucking in the viral water, the holy juice of life.

Rising up straight and strong again, blooms and leaves

Turn to drink deep of each life giving, delightful drop.

Hawks soar gleefully with grace over the fields.

Crows cackle and flutter their wings in the nearby trees.

Hosts of birds gather on the lawns to feast and fatten.

Worms leave their dreary, dark homes to come for moisture.

The breeze comes again and pushes aside the clouds.

The sun, allowed to tidy up remaining puddles, has arrived.

And I, delighted, watch the scene with satisfied pleasure

Admiring the aftermath of nature and its circling, life forces.

                                                                        Elizabeth Milner