The Coming of The Rain

Once there was a quite small village that sat upon a river bed The river gave them water, crops and a place to lay their own homestead Every day was summer there their crops grow all year long The people did not know of sorrow, they were happy, fed, and strong Yet there came a day upon the town when change was soon afoot For instead of water flowing they found only rocks and soot Search they did and still found not a drop of liquid life And scared they grew, their fear abloom so useless was their strife Then in the night they felt a sense of coldness clutch their bones A shiver spread across the path of all the people's homes And in the morning yet another fright did come to be for puffs of whiteness spread across the sky for all to see First the river, then the cold, and now a cover on the sky the people of the village tried to find the reason why If they did not find it soon there would be no second chance because with out a source to drink their lives would not advance And so the village held a council to find the answers that they sought Their speculations flew like arrows that never hit the target spot They guessed of men of mass proportion who had swallowed all in sight They talked of a grand weaver who wove a blanket of great white The people spoke of powers spreading darkness in their hearts, for how could such a coldness be of good in any part The imaginations of the people sketched a being of divine. A veiled thing of massive power, one to tie the river's line Looking up into the cover of the white quilt spread above they pleaded with the veiled one to give back the drink they loved Then water fell out of the sky and the river was once more a flowing thing of energy a symbol of the lord So every time the river dries the villagers all kneel and pray to the Grand Veiled One in unspoken appeal And water falls upon their heads from time to time again and still this day they look to see the coming of the rain