For I will consider the rain.

For she is of no religion but every faith.

For I will have faith that she will fall.

For I will trust that she lingers in the heavens during the driest of Aprils and the desert of May.  The parched sunbaked drought of a golden wizened state. 

For in my dreams.  

When under the covers of closed lids; heavy with sleep, my eyes move rapidly.  She appears.  Bringing greenery to lushness in a tranquil downpour.  When I wake I feel she has left me relinquished.  Thirsty.  

I will daydream of the soothing drizzle.

The violent comedown.  

For I will remember the north.  The glaciers and the arctic.  The free flowing water fountain of Icelandic community pools.  Of Icelandic bikepaths.  Of Iceland.  Of her existence.  Rain.

For she is abundant.

But also.  I will consider the rainforest.  

Southern as the lands bordering the equator.

Of monsoon downpours.  A wet season that follows a dry one.  Coupled binate twofold; she distinguishes herself in this seasonal dichotomy.  For she is alive in such wetness.  A dripping night.  A well showered morning.  

The elements and planetary life cycles of earth call out to thank the skies when she drops from them.  

Pouring onto the lips of parched smiles.  

For I will consider the rain.

 “A woman in the shape of a monster
a monster in the shape of a woman
the skies are full of them…”
The fifth stanza is, “Galaxies of women, there
doing penance for impetuousness
ribs chilled
in those spaces     of the mind” …
In these stanzas Rich is referencing “women” as an entity of beings.  She is digging into the female experience of being a woman in science.  There are myths of celestial bodies.  These celestial bodies are often gendered.  She unpacks this from what comes across as a feminist perspective, recording as the poet.