“Pitter” says the rain,
“Patter” says her heart.
“Pitter”, “patter”, back and forth,
Replying in the dark.
Tears float down from Heaven,
Flowing into creeks,
Droplets course from reddened eyes;
Salt rivers burning cheeks.
A timpani of thunder.
A silent inward sigh.
Ad yet somehow the muted breath
Booms louder than the sky.
The pouring calms to drizzling,
And overcome by sleep,
The Dreamer dreams of Heaven
As the world above her weeps.
When the storm is over
And her victory is won,
She will arise with brightened eyes
And frolic in the sun.
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