Rain

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Rain

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #193

What rain is this that pours within
From thoughts teeming like clouds,
A steady downpour rare and divine
That slowly my glad heart floods.

In my nerves are born silver rivulets
That sparkle and laugh out Thy name,
They hurry within to all my members
Like a happy riot they swirling roam.

A garden occult with flowers all rare
Given for my soul-bee to cherish,
Intoxicated by nectar beyond compare
I dance like a maddened dervish.

How impoverished seems all the world
When Thee within my soul can behold!