Petrichor

The golden fluid flows 

through the immortals’ veins

But after weeks the earth has turned to stone.

Helios, behind some sketchy cloud

Is not quite hid,

But Zeus, during the night let loose his rains

And now his energy is mostly spent.

And this morning, who could ask for more,

Heaven on earth 

as earth to heaven sends its scent

Not just of flora but of petrichor?