Today it rains. Il pleut.
Interestingly enough in French Il pleut can also mean “he cries” or is it “he is crying/weeping”? At any rate, I think the French have it right … for the rain often makes people a little 
misty-eyed.
Strangely enough, not me, not today.
Perhaps it is because I have another poem to share with you. Not mine this time. Mine the other day was a very first draft … and we all know about first drafts, don’t we?
Today’s poem is by Antoinette Voûte Roeder
from her book, Still Breathing
Who is
God Now?
Rain.
The drops, the spaces between,
the times when it does not
rain.
Wind.
When it blows, storms, rages,
when it lies down in quiet pools.
Wind.
Body.
When it rises strong and free, entwines with another,
when it loses its luster and begins the long descent.
Body.
Love.
In all its facets, birthing, growing, yearning,
breaking, losing.
Love.
Who is God now?
Far and near.
Here, not here.
Always, all ways.
God.
Although I no longer have a faith community that I meet with regularly … I find this comforting.
Let me know what feelings this poem evokes in you, if you like. Thanks for visiting.
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susannasays.com 
This is my god now – the drops and the space in between, the wind, trees, breaking/losing, the body, and so much more. Who is god now? the poem asks. I would answer “Every – everywhere, everyone.” (My personal theology drives those who live and worship in the Bible belt batshit crazy. To which I say: so be it.)
When I read this to Jeff in the car as we drove home from Hanover … seeing not only 3 hawks, one with full wingspread, a raven and numerous other miraculous sights including a bald eagle … his sagely nodded and said, “Now there’s one of your soul mates…” Yup sure ’tis. I love how your mind/heart works, Jeanne.