Nothing does more
To encourage hope 
In a despondent soul
Than the fresh scent of rain.
As the dirt, grime and impurities
Of industry and corporate waste
Are leached from the air
And dragged to the earth
By droplets and mist
In an effort to erase 
The transgressions of humankind
Propagated on the very garden
That we have been charged to care for.
The scent of rain
Is God’s grace
Giving us another chance to make it right,
Even though He knows that we will get it wrong.
For us to even try,
We must have hope
In the possibility that it can be accomplished.
That scent of rain,
Reminding us of how the 
Fragrance of the air we breath
Should be.
Could be.
The scent of hope that tomorrow 
Might possibly be better
If we hold ourselves accountable.