I Am Not Dancing In The Rain

Each year first rain falling,

I would hear the music calling,

And outside my son and I,

Would dance under leaky sky,

The rain beating down sweet,

Wetting faces, fingers, feet,

Loving the rain dance groove,

Chanting rain song as we move,

But now I tell the rain to stop,

I do not want to hear a drop,

My son is out there getting wet,

Wondrous water turned to threat,

You dare to soak him right through,

His clothes, his bag, his tent too,

To chill his body against my will,

While I am dry and warmer still,

I won’t allow it, and this is how,

I’ll make you stop falling now,

The sun dance rhythm hot and dry,

Will knock you right out of the sky,

All mothers sun dancing together,

Taking charge of sons and weather.

This entry was posted in love, poetry, winter and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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