Sorrow poured over my heart like a summer rain.
Each drop leaving a mark on the parched soil.
The smell of dust arising in the air
reminding me from that which I came,
knowing that this must take place.
Knowing that the storm is fleeting but still cools the summer heat.
That which i must endure the falling and dying of autumn, the sleepy sweet solitude of winter,
'fore I will see the life that flows from the rain.