Be My Morning Rain
Poetry
I am writing a song about you,
a song that will live in the seventh heaven,
for our eternity.
Let the melody
from this evening's drizzle
interweave with my Piano interlude.
You, my Dearest, are
an Evening Rain,
a rain that feeds shriveled soils
in the souls of mortals,
after long days that are
parched like Harmattan.
You are the Evening Rain
that vows to gift a sweat-less night.
The Evening Rain
that caresses the dark start
of a new morning,
with peaceful dews.
Please, be my Morning Rain too,
a heavy and thunderous Morning Rain.
Be fierce enough to keep me indoors.
Keep me safe,
from the early chase
of futility.
© Deborah Woruka 2024. All Rights Reserved.