I wonder if light in Heaven is made of rain - or if earthly rain can turn into light. And I wish I could spell the sound that the rain is making today. The summer rain. Soft and light and soaking and steady. I can hear it on the leaves of the lilac bush and the locust tree outside my kitchen window, and I can hear it landing on the metal roof of the woodshed and the well house and splashing quietly on the cement of the path that leads to the door. And to me, today, it sounds like the the words we pray for the dead. It sounds like "light, and refreshment, and peace." But I don't know how to spell the sound. It sounds like rest.