Do you suppose there’s any reason
That the words RAIN and PAIN are so alike?
A mere sloped line divides one from the other.
Maybe they’re related in the feelings they encourage,
Like ill malaise and dreary days.
Or maybe rain, coming down like \\, washes away the pain.
Well, doesn’t wash it away, per se, but distracts us from it,
Gives us something wonderful to turn to,
Something that falls in rhythms and waves,
Something from above, something here, today.
And then, every once in a while
The sun puts a bow on rain,
And a collage of colors cross the sky
As she dances herself dry.