Petrichor

Candy and iron gifts
From the sweet-smelling soil,
Rain at the right angle
Delivers a marriage
That, like all marriages,
Is fragrant when just so.

The wet stones underfoot,
Treacherous with ichor
Straight from the hearts of gods,
From the storm clouds of spring
Releasing the ground's joy
In a bouquet of trust

That this is good for us,
If we tread carefully,
If we breath gratefully,
If we catch each other,
If we praise each other,
Remind us why we love.