Sunday Hymn

Sunday Hymn

I am grateful for this downpour
That jabbers in the birdbath
And clangs inside the drainpipe
Samba agogô outside my door.

I am grateful for this thunder crashing,
Booming one-two-three-four fast,
And this heaven-cracking lightning,
Dance-floor-strobe-light flashing.

I am grateful for this wife of mine
Ensconced in the couch facing me
Engrossed in fifteen across,
Sanguinary or sanguinity.

I am grateful for this old dog
Who curled up at my feet,
Seeking safety there from the tempest
Then slipping back to sleep.

I am grateful for these Sunday funnies,
My Kindle’s New York Times,
And iced coffee I sip occasionally
On this peacefully stormy Sabbath of mine.