I heard the raindrops on
my doorsteps.
Like metal tin cans.
Welcome home this gentle run.
Falling, searching, pounding on and on.
There is cedar in the breeze.
Birdies in the shower.
Muddy puddles for the children.
When I talk to rain.
O’ the world to listen.
Pull me afar.
Draft in the wisdom gull.
And when I return
I become blind that I may see.
I am rain.
I am thunder.
I am more now
than I ever was.`your Kindness sister Krissy Mosley