SUNDAY MORNING IMPROMPTU
It has been raining...storming since around 6pm last night, and little Sam hasn't been out, so when I got up to pace the floor he sprang from his bed and ran to the back door to see if the rain had slowed. We went outside together where the storm had calmed to a gentle dropping rain. My bare feet slapped the wet pavement of the concrete patio as we ran around it together. I inhaled the scent of wet red clay soaked with rain. My cotton gown began to weigh with rainwater as strands of damp hair clung to my face and shoulders, but the warmth of the August night shielded me from chill. An angel in white cotton, I began to spin, arms outstretched, under the branches of an elm tree. It is Sunday morning, and I worship.