A song of the tearful clouds,
of the rhythmic rain drops,
the pulse of nature
beating against the tin roof,
a cantata being composed
by the wit of the skies,
the mind of the Rain Gods,
equipped with zealous pens,
penning tears on the manuscript,
eternal melodies with ancient lyrics,
a song of the thirsty flowers,
the communing of the
earth and clouds,
the beauty of the twisting skies,
the waltz of the gray and black
as the sun hides behind a veil,
a waiting for the tempest
to grow weary
and run out of itself,
then listen to the song of the rainbow
flaunting its glory in the azure skies,
a new movement from Mother Earth
as she storms about and sits still,
as she cries and she laughs,
as she sings onto the
rooftops in the rainforest,
and as the cantata lasts forever
in the pulse of the seasons.

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Robert L. Martin
almost 1 year

Thanx Nelson.

Nelson D Reyes
almost 1 year

Beautiful. This is why the rain makes me go to sleep so effortlessly and makes me stay asleep longer than when it’s not raining.

Thanks Robert. Like.

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Nelson D Reyes
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