The world is being washed,
by clouds that burst,
a calm is descending,
upon my restless heart.

A view jagged by racing drops,
a cup of tea, a window sill,
I soak in a moment so rare,
that life is at stand still.

The world, dry and dusty,
a while ago, now smug,
for all its shine and gloss.
Mere rain, for the parched earth.
Manna for my shrivelled heart.

A moment to ponder, to reflect
of who I have become,
and who I want to be.
Now is the moment to whisper,
some courage to my own ears.

The gloss seeps into my soul,
the cleansing that it needed,
has come in the drops that ,
I now hold in my palms.
Faith is this rain,
A promise is this rain.