When it rains

When it rains it sometimes pours…

If it were raindrops falling on my head I’d find my friend, my companion, my greatest strength near.

If the rain were steady and thunder cast lightning I’d hear her voice whisper subtle in my ear saying “this too shall pass.”  

Days of thunder can appear with such madness. Whereas she can be found near with such comfort of warm gentle hands, a hug to keep the storms formation from clouds of despair.

Perhaps God’s will silenced the withering storm as it unsurpassed the pastures left behind unscathed. The storm that could have flooded the earth surrenders to the sound of harmony under a willow tree from afar.

It is there she sat under this old willow tree looking up into the sky as the clouds lifted. The glimmer of sun shines through the scattered clouds as the storm settled embarked onto another journey.

It is there under this willow tree she rested, waiting, anticipating my arrival from afar left undone, dry in the musk left behind.


I walked this distance from afar and sat next to her with my head leaned into her shoulder. I closed my eyes as she placed her hand gently on mine and said “the storm has passed yet another day.”



Marsha Beede

2 Replies to “When it rains”

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