spring rain

I hear a gentle rain outside, and it reminds me of a Sunday morning a couple weeks ago when I woke up with a poem in my heart as I listened to one of the first spring rains. I jotted down a few lines on a scratch sheet of paper, thinking I'd finish it that afternoon. Well, it's raining now, and it seems like a good time to fill in the gaps.

spring rain
a scattered patter
to warm the blood
of a frozen field,
and green the ground of a
snow-melted brown.

the drizzle swells
into rivulets and streams,
a downpour of drops
morphs budding emerald verdure
while finches cheep esteem.

mercies brim forth,
gifted from heaven
to purify souls from
Sin's smut and Temptation's muck;
hearts bathed in crimson-cross
sprout Forbearance, Grace--
who blossom in gospel rains
and point contented to the Son.