(after a loss, I have walked long in silence
I have walked long in silence, scuffing my shoes)

the Lord shall come down
     like rain on the grass
like rain before mowing
     the Lord shall come down

The Lord falls alike
     on the wheat and the thistle
his scythe takes alike
     the grain and the weeds

The Lord comes in August
     while hay is still sweetening
a sweetness of rot
     from the wet windrowed fields

The Lord comes to me
     like the dew in the morning
my heart is soaked through --
     I am done with this singing