A New Poem - Looking Out at the Rain

It's raining outside.
Some would say "in sheets".
Some would say "torrential".
To me, it seems God turned on
A giant garden hose, then
put His thumb over the edge
of the spout to give it more pressure.
And He's chasing everybody with it.
"Come play" He calls.

It's raining outside.
Even the Summer Sun is
taking a well earned, unscheduled nap
as the street lights come on
at 2 in the afternoon creating
a mysterious glow, as the artificial
light prisms off the wall of rain.
The wall ripples as God breathes on it.
"Come play" He calls.

It's raining outside.
Little streams in the parking lot
gather together to become little creeks that
become flowing rivers, powerfully
traveling where they will.
All this I see from the window by my cube.
Wanting to travel the river to its end.
But my reflection in the window looks at me,
his back to it all, and I turn to the wall and sigh.

God calls.
"Come play".
I walk away.
"Not today".
"It's raining outside."