Through my window I see a morning of change,

A breeze of difference, a touch of rain I see.

The sky is moving, a heaviness rests above,

When it’s raining there’s a quietness that surrounds.

This day is different, not enough rain but to wash the dust,

Thankful for every drop we get, before our eyes life dies.

I speak of out west, California not so special anymore,

The rain is a stranger but we pray always for more.

Keith Garrett


One thought on “WHEN IT’S RAINING

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s