As the rains continue to keep pouring,
We cannot help, but watch the river rise.
The clouds do not wish to go exploring
As it settles, covering up the skies.
The edges of puddles kiss each other,
Showing us that they have collective might.
They eventually merge with their brother
As they climb the hill to a greater height.
The birds find their roost on the top branches,
Avoiding the gurgling rush below;
They do not care how the trickle drenches
The hungry storm’s ever increasing flow.
The time given to us is running short,
And from this land, we will have to abort.
John Collings 