Letters

Rain comes, rain falls, in wondrous forms:

“gentle,” “moderate,” and, sometimes, “storm.”

Of all rain’s forms, from the day I was born,

dear heart seeks “gentle,” so safe, so warm.

Drip, drop, drippity, drop.

Quietly falls, the calming rain,

softly soothing, it’s love’s refrain.

In rhyme it whispers, direct to soul:

“Through rain, dream on, dear one, dream on,

rainbows are a comin’, all worries be gone!”

Its patterns uneven, so naturally pleasing,

rain’s rhythms, hushed murmurs, are always appeasing.

Sweet scented showers begin and then fade,

breathe in again, out again, all through gray day.

Angelical choirs dance merrily through mist

sprinkling God’s blessings, on sound waves of bliss.

Blessed ears will hear, blessed eyes will see:

“Through rain, dream on, dear one, dream on,

rainbows are a comin’, all worries be gone!”

Dripping and dropping, rain’s pitter, rain’s patter,

cancels all fears, or whatever’s the matter.

Not Torrents! Not Raging! Nor “Cats and Dogs”!

Not Cloud Bursts! Deluge! Or Heavy Down-Pours,

just gentle, refreshing, restoring sweet rain,

descending in splendor, relieving life’s strain.

Far have I wandered through sun and in rain,

enjoying life’s rainbows, now scheme to explain,

the hypnotizing, tranquilizing, tantalizing grains,

of mesmerizing, soul-healing, gently falling rain.

Mike Piliero

Hampton Bays