Blackberrying in the Rain
And sweetly kissed
My tranquil face,
While calloused hands
(With purple stains)
Caressed the perfect,
Admiring how the raindrops ran
In gleaming pools
Between the drupes.
I tasted of my little hoard,
So cool, firm, and freshly wet,
A yielding sweetness
From the days
Of sun and rain and dripping sweat.
I felt a certain swelling peace,
If this is life, then life is good!
I worship here, among the canes,
Bareheaded in the summer rains,
My busy fingers daubed with stains,
And heart turned up to God.