Spring rain

...kept up today, dripping on and off.  I love the sound, the smell.
It was a balanced day of work and pleasure:  the paperwork, keeping track of things (for which I always need help, and am grateful); a shopping run, getting to smell the rain as I drove; the doctoring of a soup into a good Greek avgolemono; a welcome visit from friends here briefly from out-of-town.  Some time reading the latest Parabola magazine, always nourishing—-a birthday gift from a friend who knew I would love it.
The sound of rain on the skylight tonight brings thoughts of all those I have loved who are gone:  more there than here, now; and if my life isn't to be impoverished, I must open my heart to more love.
The very thought brings on more tears.
But then it occurs to me that so very much of the world is worthy of love---the garden, the morning rabbit, the towhees who have returned to seek out food.  The old friends who are still in this world, and those who have gone---love does not stop flowing just because I do not know the proper address.

But oh, I still miss their presence in this world, where I could hear and touch them.
It seems that Time has not dulled my longing for their presence.
And the rain brings on the echoing tears---my tribute for tonight.