Rainstorm

This week, I was able to fulfill a goal of mine which was to visit Kripalu, a gorgeous yoga retreat center in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. I have the blessing of living less than an hour away, but because of full-time work and full-time life, I hadn’t been able to make it happen. My school year ended on Wednesday, and I scheduled the visit for Thursday while my kids were still in school. I went there for the day, after arriving later than I had hoped to because of a migraine arriving like they tend to do when things wind down. Despite the rocky start, I was able to lose myself in Yoga Dance, meet a local author and artist that I became fast friends with. In the workshop where we began to chat, I created a vision board for the next few steps of my journey. While there, we had a big rainstorm, and as the cool air flowed through the open windows, I penned this poem as a response to Mary Oliver’s “Don’t Worry” and this week’s prompt from Poetry Outdoors. Please enjoy. 🙏🏼

Rainstorm
by Abbie Shanahan
Sometimes that voice clears its throat to name all the things you’ll never be.
Don’t worry about the Biltmore that was never meant to measure you.
Listen instead to the force of the rain as its torrents wash away the pollen of doubt,
making way for the sliver of sun and a sky painted with clouds,
holding your dreams in those soft white folds.