Oh, so swoon the rains become our magic;

gray cloud cover speaks ominous tragic

cleansing. Spring is alive bursting rampant

tones asking human nature’s latest rant

to understand your vanity remains

fodder within winds; that water retains

lovely tease upon our soil. Come alive

sweet tulip buds, gardener’s blossoms thrive.

We feel such energy our psyche drawn

to wanton desires, passions, love’s new dawn

Pretend you are newly bourne, sole flower

usurp our reality forever.

Sweet nectar in earth’s magic sustenance;

today, the rains did design Her new chants.