As the Gospel gives us today another gardening parable, I here share another Poor Clare gardening experience. Perhaps this only happens to me. I wait patiently for the rain to come and water our vegetables. Day after day the sky is blue. Or clouds do arise on the horizon only to lumber by without dropping any of their cargo. Finally I give up and drag out the hose in the early morning. Almost without fail, by the end of the day a storm has blown in from heaven knows where and has watered all the gardens better than I ever could in one percent of the time. So now, whenever I water the vegetable field, I say that I am doing my rain dance. But about a month ago, the ultimate happened: while I was watering a thunderhead appeared…
While I ploddingly watered my panting garden,
The thunder grumbled down on me.
I could not help but hearken
As the frowning monster darkened
The bending, trembling trees.
Eyeing it with apprehension,
Reluctant to spark undue aggression,
Yet more in me was expectation.
So with hose in hand
I defied the sky
Until then happy and
“I dare you to better
My hose and I!”
For my sun-drenched land
I would dance and tease,
That the rain may be better
And I at ease.