Each drop from the rain arrives
as spontaneously as meetings of different lives
as lush with beauty
as the energy needed to bring power to our springs

The hour of telling stories
is fitting as the show told in tales
that never gets old or stale

Welling with tears
the sky cries
Spells of rain dances and changing tides
Rhythm fell down on a dance
sounding a written trance
so lively it seemed to be a dangerous entrance
bound likes books we would look to for exams
and their requirements

Writing to cement permanence
while residing in an increasingly water like state of transience
the words of a character
lost among the costs and chatter of other matters
found many voices of honor

A rainy afternoon
is a wondrous fuel
for writers, readers, rappers, listeners and singers