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Musing: Morning Rain

There’s a spark outside
Like a strange thunderclap
Hailing his younger cousin
Waking the town from her slumber
Pushing fear into the hearts of many
But for those who know the trick

Now it rains with might
The whole town goes damp
Drawing long straight lines
Which no man can draw better
The crystal rain drops are tiny
But their hits are more like bricks!

On the evening, during moonlight
Some men gather to revamp
Under the Baobab sheltering the inns
The men talk about the rains asunder
Though most feared on the disturbed clemency
On the waving neighboring trees, the Gmelina and Teak

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