Rain

The rain upon the fields, so pure, A silver curtain gently flows, It wakes the earth from drought and dreams, And sweeps through blossoms, bright and rose.

Each droplet falls, a tale retold, Whispering life back into the land, And every stream begins to dance, With nature’s pulse our hearts expand.

Oh rain, you gift the world anew, And in your wake, the heart beats strong, For every struggle we endure, Is but a path where we belong. —Louis MacNeice

• Louis MacNeice