Rain Upcountry
by Ivan M. GrangerOriginal Language English
Twin mares,
bay brown,
huddle and huff
beneath the eucalyptus.
Goats gather there
too,
sharp-eyed,
waiting.
Beneath his hutch
a rooster darts
his head, black and red,
out
and in again.
And here I stand
lacking the animal sense
to step out
of the rain.
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This is a poem I wrote during my Maui days, living in the rural "upcountry" region along the slopes of Haleakala volcano.
People often associate Hawaii with beaches and sunshine, but it is a land of microclimates -- drive ten minutes in any direction and the world has changed from desert to dense jungle, from sun, to fog, to rain. Some days the raindrops just float suspended in the moist air, waiting to settle onto your cheeks. Other days, the rain drives down to crash upon your crown, like heaven demanding entrance.
Rain can be a metaphor for the celestial drink, the juice of heaven that descends upon us. When it lands, everything else disappears in its wash.
We might imagine the animals as being aspects of the personality, with a natural sense of self-preservation and desire for comfort. The rain comes, and they instinctively seek shelter.
Then the question beats in our heart: Today do we too find shelter, or do we stand open to that celestial downpour?
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