Took a walk in the rain today,
As droplets fell from out the sky
I let that water wash away
Any trace of tears in my eye
And onward did I walk until
I found myself atop a hill,
Turned to look back to where I started…
Towards my home, from whence I’d departed
Wondered were there a way to tell
Where either footsteps or raindrops fell
Could I be one to have such power,
Looking down from atop some tower
Would I let the rain touch each flower
For a minute or for an hour,
As I looked down from some place far
Could I let things be what they are?
Could I let those drops fall from the air
To touch the earth where e’er they may dare,
Just let them fall and come to their rest
Just where on Earth they felt the best
Or to find a way would I sweat and toil
To control where each drop did touch the soil
And would such toil mess with the elegance,
The pattern and rhythm of rainfall’s dance?
And what of the placement of footsteps trod?
Perhaps such things are best left up to God,
Raindrops and footsteps, minutes, hours and days,
Reasons and rhymes, manners, methods and ways…
Such a lesson to be learned from the rain…
Some things just are, yet no man may explain.
