All day the crops burn in the cloudless air,
Drouth lengthening against belief. At night
The husbands and wives lie side by side,
Awake, the ache of panic in their bones,
Their purposes betrayed by purposes
Unknown, whose mystery is the dark in which
They wait and grieve. All may be lost, and then
What will they do? When money is required
Of them, and they have none, where will they go?
Many will go in blame against the world,
Hating it for their pain, and they will go
Alone across the dry, bright, lifeless days,
And thus alone into the dark. Others
In grief and loss will see more certainly
What they have loved and will belong to it
And to each other as in happiness
They never did--hearing, though the whole world
Go dry, the hidden raincrow of their hope.
We lay in our bed as in a tomb
awakened by thunder to the dark
in which our house was one with night,
and then light came as if the black
roof of the world had cracked open,
as if the night of all time had broken,
and out our window we glimpsed the world
birthwet and shining, as even
the sun at noon had never made it shine.
These two poems are by Wendell Berry and can be found in his collection called "Enteries".
This summer has been drouty. But this week we are finally getting a good soaking.
Drouth is grinding on the farmer. Storms can also be stressful. Any extreme in the weather is difficult.
But I am always intrigued by the possibility of these very things deepening our love and wonder at life. It's not just about looking at the bright side--there is something much more profound going on. Looking on the bright side is a mental trick that comes from discipline and will-power. It's a systematic erasure of the things we don't like. But what is suppressed only gains power.
Being moved towards deeper love by difficult and painful or scary things is something different. It's mysterious...
These poems induced THIS POST if you care to hear me respond a bit more...