What is Rain but the weeping clouds atop the cobbled streets?
But the kiss of the sky and the earth- lovers destined never to meet?
But the tears of the angels that hide and seek amidst the homeless clouds?
But the soothing mercy of God to slay the beast of midsummer heat?
But the tears of the souls and memories that search in vain for a home?
But the glimmer in the farmer’s eyes when he stands beside his field alone?
But the cue from heavens above for the daisy to sprout out o’ the ground?
But the one that remains mother for the rainbows to come along?
But the shower of music and the hiding veils for the lovers’ dance?
But that one time when busy mother and child, to play, would get the chance?
But the magic, the miracle of everyday, the beauty loved profound?
But the time of the day when the old do cry and relive their life at a glance?
But the generous bounty to the parched rivers and the heated street?
Yet again, and forever, ‘twill be the only chance for the sky and earth to meet.