Seven short lines, and a quiet contrast sits at the center of them. The speaker watches for the sun, looking outward and hoping for something to appear. The earth, meanwhile, does something different: it accepts the rain, and it does so "fully expectant," as if the rain were exactly what it had been waiting for all along.
The speaker's watchfulness feels a little restless, maybe even wistful, while the earth seems completely at ease. The poem doesn't say so outright, but the comparison suggests the speaker could learn something from the ground, which takes what arrives without complaint. The line breaks make us slow down, so each phrase lands on its own, almost like a breath or a single drop falling.
The mood is calm, patient, and gently hopeful. Nothing dramatic happens. Instead, the poem seems to ask what it would mean to wait the way the earth does: open, trusting, and ready for whatever comes down.