Tuesday, May 07, 2013



What is it in rain that hushes the soul?
When the skies they do cry, as out of control,
Perhaps through their tears I am washed clean
Is this what this quiet within me means?

Do the rivers and streams on my windowsill
Reflect hopes and dreams carried in me still?
Does the plip-plop of rain drops upon the ground
Echo the skipping of my heart’s sound?

Be it thus? Am I air? Are thus we all light?
Born are we for atmospheric flight?
And then when heavy fall we to the ground?
In this is the cycle of all life found?

Oh fall heavy rain, fall morning mist,
Essence of heaven that all of us miss.
Fall all around me, wash my mind clean,
That home to my heaven go I in my dreams.


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