A sensation known by all with little
To show for it in the common nomenclature.
The sweet metallic gusts that arise from
a dark cumulonimbus on the horizon.
The cloud isn’t the herald, though.
Rain sends its messenger to the blind—
The disoriented who only remember
drought and dust.
Those unable to see how anything could be different? 
Breathe in deeply the petrichor of that
First springtime torrential deluge and
Be reminded of God’s beautiful system.
Provision always follows the aroma of promise.