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Thursday, February 21, 2008

Sonnet LII

The rain will fall from Heaven in the spring
and dampen earth below and spirits too.
There seems to be descending gloom in spring
when droplets fall and rain makes earthly trips.

But ah, dear rain, you tap so rhythmically.
You comfort me at night and join my grief,
You join my madness, dripping constantly.
You nourish plants, quench nature’s dying thirst.

Ah, rain, you blessed gift that dulls my gloom.
No wonder we, for centuries, have prayed
for your return, that even makes blooms bloom.
My misaligned companion, cry your tears.

But may there be glad tears that fall in spring,
as birds, despite the rain, still sadly sing.

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A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!