Quenched

The rain is drumming the roof and my mind is calm and still for the first time in weeks and weeks. We haven’t received rain here in southern West Virginia for a long time it seems. Everything has been dry and brown. The grasses have been withered and the soil parched. Gravel roads dusty and sun-baked. It is as if we are receiving all of September’s rainfall in one evening. The creeks and rivers will rise and swell. I am listening to it now as it is happening. Tomorrow the Bluestone will breach its banks. Millennial river rocks that have roasted in the sun for weeks will be submerged under rushing waters, limbs and debris will gush downstream. The spring box here on the farm will fill. Aquifers deep within the mountainsides will raise and spill from a million different sources. And I’m being filled too. I’m being washed. I am being cleansed. I am drinking from an overflowing cup of abundant life and my thirst is being quenched.