Song of Root and Rain

The rain’s song, a rhythm as old and timeless as the earth, is sung while the old pines, whose roots run deep, echo it across the forest floor. There amongst the pines is a man, fighting sleep, waiting to see his pale, dark-haired beauty.

Beyond his dry haven lay a moonlit glade, faint and washed-out through the rain’s curtain. It will be dark soon, for the light had taken on an amber quality. Still, he waited.

She comes, gossamer and glistening, across the glade and takes his hand. He is lost in the endless depths of her eyes, and her love for him. She says things lovers say, touches him as lovers do. They are as one beneath the dry boughs.

With dark hair cascading down upon her breast and his body pressed back against the loam, they feel the song of root and rain pulse up through them.

He wakes and brushes away the debris as the dawn breaks.

Atop the great mountain, lightning flashes and thunder erupts and rolls down into the forest in jealous anger, as father sky see mother earth lay with a man.

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