There is rain coming. Everywhere knows it.
The birds sing the song of the approaching storm,
the moist wind teases the leaves
and already the seed swells for the rainsperm
and the tree dreams the deep drink
and the dry rocks suck the vapour from the sky

and I am waiting for the word
that may annihilate me
the mating call of earth to sky

Excerpt from 'The Bright Burning'
by Daverick Leggett