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The first minute of a new day
brought the sounds of rain falling softly outside my window
It was a comforting sound, steady and slow.
It signified cleansing;
washing away the soot and grime, tensions and troubles
accumulated throughout the summer
in the street gutters and sidewalk crevices
of our hearts and minds.
It nurtured growth.
Nature’s growth
A soul’s growth.
It brings the promise of a bright smile
to warm the flowers of a human heart.

Grow is a poem by Bradford Greer. Greer is a dedicated Options writer, editor, and member of the magazine's board of directors. See more of Greer's work on his Options author's page.


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