Petrichor

Like the earth, we all carry a scent deep within us, awaiting release- It lays inside, enfolding our purpose, only needing the spirit of water to announce the clemency of death- There is some kind of truth, a balance of elemental being, where one discovers the necessity of life bound in the joining of earth and rain; where aroma is found to be a passageway through the veil hanging between the transitory and the eternal; where the smell of freedom is the release of the soul. We, the dust of dust, get caught up into the complexities of so many whirlwinds, mixing, blending, evolving, and finally becoming the fragrance filling God's nostrils, rising on the rain of salvation's sweet scent- Like the earth, so dry, sometimes life goes stale and stagnant for a season; dries right up, to the edge of death's door, awaiting a release through the spirit of water. Look up. Not so far off now, clouds rolling in yonder, catch the aura on the wind. It smells like rain-