Haibun: Change Drops

The drops of rain, falling into puddled water, are not heard that often here in the desert.

The rhythm, a normal occurrence for the rest of the world, was novel this time. The streak of 100 days of no rain, washed away by the strange sounds. Washed away by delightful change. 

The delight, the rain, not all change is bad. In fact, I find change is always bad when I’m anxious and need a sense of control. 

clouds fold like surf’s wave

bringing the sun’s grave. rain! rain!

winter’s wet desert