Magical drops of water fall from the sky.
Landing on a wall of trees.
The flowers say "Please
chase away the bees."
The lightening is really brite, sudden
shouts of light.
Thunder laughing aloud,
in a dark cloud.
Find the rain,
wash away the grey.

Bathe the seed,
for the life we need.
When the rain goes home,
it leaves a rainbow.
Like all dreams,
the rain is leaving me.
The rain comes and goes,
sometimes fast and sometimes slow.
Find the rain,
wash the grey away.