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In memory of Margaret whose love lives on.
It came from above in the faces of love –at the first touch of the rain.
In a misty warm haze I rode up on its waves -I was bathed!
I reached up to clasp what my hands could not grasp at the first touch of the rain.
I laughed with surprise, despite all my tries –as the floodgates of heaven were raised.
Let it rain!
Closing my eyes I looked to the skies as love fell like the rain.
The voices in the wind, joined with me then –in a dance.
In the swelling and sway they spoke of their day, as love fell like the rain.
I knew in my heart I was doing my part -when a cadence of joy they sang:
Chorus: Let It pound down the mountains of the hardest of souls
Let it penetrate deep where ever it goes
Let it flow through the valleys to the barest of plains!
And bring new life -once again! Let it rain!
It was magical dream I was caught up in its stream at the birthplace of the rain
There are reasons and rhymes and seasons and times; I was amazed!
My passions and needs rose up into seeds, at the birthplace of the rain.
I wept in its holding, in its shaping and molding, and fell down bursting in praise!
Let it rain!
I woke in a sweat; I could see I was wet as if I was out in the rain.
I looked all around -then came that sound –it was there.
Just a little tap-tap than a stronger rap-rap as if I was out in the rain.
It came down in sheets in melodious beats; I swear I could hear them say: