You are the rain
sometimes cooling down
sometimes in the way
sometimes comforting me on my couch
sometimes frightening with rage-
but you are not just the rain
you are a cold front
on a hot day
with the sun still shining-
brushing against my face;
and I dream of when you’ll come
and I beg that you would stay,
I anticipate the moving clouds
knowing they carry you my way-
but you are not just a cold front,
you are not just the rain,
you are an old tree
in Bryant park
protecting our great love
protecting me in your shade;
and I know God has planted you
and I know that he is great,
but I am thankful for your falling leaves
casting beauty in my face,
calming me down with your grace-
-there is not a more beautiful place-