The rain unfolds like sheets upon a corpse
as, desperate, the drifting Noah tries
to save the few while piloting his ship’s
hull through the graveyard sea where all else lies.
He weeps, cruel irony that all this flood
became the instrument of utter death,
for he has more than once in wonder stood
as rain’s touch let the parched ground utter breath.
But then his ark beneath an arc finds peace,
its many colors comfort in the sky,
which only days before had made life cease;
it covenants that earth will no more die.
And when I’ve felt like one among the dead,
I’ve watched God’s rainbow oath and hoped instead.