Colorless, multiple, miracle pieces of thread,
dropping down from a dark black cloud;
with a melodious touch on the roofs of men's dwelling.
Instantly turning into flowing water as it kisses the earth,
useless for sewing but useful for washing the dirt of men
and watering their seed sown.
Cephas Rotimi Oluwaseyitan
Cotonou
22nd September 2007
Cephas Rotimi Oluwaseyitan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rain-42/
