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  • Writer's pictureTaryn D


I don't know that we have to

come to love the rain

apart from the consolation

of the patter on the umbrella

and its fortifying rooftop rhythm

I think that's what peace sounds like

The Person who endlessly rolls

out his love as a refuge

and then meets us under it

to brush our hair off our face

with His own hand

and affectionately

smooth strays behind eager

yet sometimes selective ears

Not that he can't see us

but because He wants us

to know that He does






He who planted the ear, does He not hear? He who formed the eye, does He not see? Psalm 94:9


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