Mistin’ Rain

 

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I intended to walk briskly, music in my ears, arms pumping and muscles striving.  I couldn’t say no and gave in to the stroll, Colt sniffing up ants and stopping, startled by sparrows.

I walked on, following his lumbering gait, an easy slack in his leash. We took the turn and my cheeks noticed then…

“It’s mistin’ rain.” I remembered, my mama used to say that and I moved more slowly up the hill, oddly content in the soft, misty rain.

Lingering in its wonder.

Took our time then, choosing to cross the grassy field, tall stalks, tiny daisy like flowers and mossy green cushion.

We step lightly, a little jump over the ditch makes me feel little girlish and my feet land on smooth pavement turning towards home.

My toes feeling the chill of wet, I’d not bothered with socks, oh well.

Misty, moistened hair and dampness on my cheeks, yet I longed to stay there, to stand in the rain, in the clarity of the nothingness of evening rain and

of wide open sky over grassy field in the mist.

At the end of a week cluttered, crowded, and disenchanted, mostly…

I found wide sky and open field filtered by the mist of rain.

O’ my soul….O’ my soul.

When clouds veil the sun and disaster comes
Oh my soul, oh my soul
When waters rise and hope takes flight
Oh my soul, oh my soul, oh my soul

Ever faithful, ever true
You, I know, You never let go

You never let go, You never let go
You never let go
You never let go, You never let go
You never let go.

David Crowder Band

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