Rainfall

Whether the rain on Mars was delicate or brutal

             whether it was blue or gray

whether it fell on bare rocks

             that remained bare

                          or on fertile ground

             that raised large forests of leafing trees

it could not last.

                          Mars froze eventually

in the same duration

                          that Venus by contrast

                                        bowed her burning head

             in noxious vapors and gas clouds.

 

On planet Earth meanwhile

                          after half a billion years

                                        of continuous volcano-havoc

                          meteor storms

             earthquakes               and lightning strikes

vapor stored in the atmosphere

                          eventually began falling.

                                        It soothed the fires.

When the fires died

             it fell silently on the first outcrops of moss.

                          On the tender grass with a sizzle.

             With more strenuous drumming

                          on the resilient fronds of ferns.

It became an orchestra of millions

             across the luxurious expanse of the tree canopy.

 

Then the sun wiped its forehead

                                       with long filmy fingers

and beamed afresh.

It worked through to creatures

                          flourishing beneath the canopy

             and persuaded them to

                                       interrupt their work

of scouring on all fours

             for delectable roots and berries.

In the clarified light

                          they stared at their hands.

They saw the wrinkled fingertips

             that gave them a firm grip

                          on slippery branches and vines

gradually smooth      and soften.

They rose in amazement

                          onto their hind legs

and crept from shelter

                          across the dazzling savannah.

 

After a summer of twelve thousand years

after the interruptions of ice

after one particular inundation

             and the shadow of an ark

                          darkening fish-shoals

as they scooted over hills and valleys

after the blaze of one civilization

                          then another

after the destruction of several experiments

                          with law and order

after the extinction

                          of many beautiful languages

rain by and large

             found its place in the scheme of things.

It began to defeat its purpose

             on the private sky of umbrellas.

It babbled through long green fields

                          and melted into the seams of poetry.

It larked in the puddle of its many names.

Cobblers and chair legs and pipe stems.

             Frogs and jugs and beards.

                          Cats and dogs.

Men.

 

Although they are shaped like a parachute

                          thanks to the air pressure beneath them

raindrops                     explode on landing.

Then the sun bears down again

             fitting his monocle into his eye.

             The glass flashes and burns.

                          The rain sweats

and evaporates into the ocean of its air.

             The ocean continues on its way

                          continually overflowing here and there

in quick little splashes

             or reckless floods and drenching.

It is delicate or brutal.

It is blue sometimes              and sometimes gray.

Sometimes it falls on bare rocks

             at others                     it raises

                          large forests of leafing trees.