The rain came.
Washed me clean.
Until everything sparkled.
A golden sheen.
What was feared
no longer revered.
The dust of everyday life
had now disappeared.
Stood strong, straight and true.
Like a warrior Sioux.
Felt the power of new.
The earth did construe.
New meanings to me.
So that I could see.
A fresh decree.
That let me be.
Without a cloud in the sky.
So I could ask why.
I had been left
high, mighty and dry.
thejrpc 