by Jane Tawel

“Sudden rain” by Brintam is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.


By Jane Tawel

April 13, 2023


Listening to rain, in the still dark morning.

And yesterday, a card came, not too late,

to wish me happiness, and so,

with a bit of habitual misgiving,

I accepted.


There is nothing to do

but accept.

And so, I turn to you

And say, “I accept you,

whatever parts you can give.”

I turn to myself, and say,

“I accept myself,

for what I was (I think),

for what I am (I imagine)

for what I may one day be (I hope)”.


And now I must accept,

that this is the time

and this is Time,

and this is all the time

that we can know.

No one owns Time,

not even God, Who, outside of,

beyond, incredulous at our missed-perceptions,

further out and further in of All Time,

the Yes, still offers us Eternity.


I can’t hear the rain anymore.

It must have stopped.

But I will try to remember it,

as I go about a day,

not my day,

but God’s,

not my day, but yours and theirs,

not my day, but ours, for a time,

and we are God’s too.

Just as the rain is,

this day, this hour, this time,

is just a passing gift,

a gift to me,

a gift to you, wherever, whoever you are,

a gift to help things grow.

And I, like all seeds,

planted in the Earth,

pray to open to the world.

Create in me, O, God,

a longing to grow and open,

for just this little time.

I bless, You, for the rain.

Create in me, O, God,



© Jane Tawel, 2023