Child of the Rain

Fragments of dreams are falling. Memories and pain.
I think you, the earth child, would call this gentle rain.
There is a voice singing to put broken souls at ease.
Why do you, wondering earth child, call the song a breeze?

Every crystal drop that forms, contains somebody’s pain.
Each childhood dream, and unwritten song finds freedom in the rain.
Ever wonder why a lake can cradle reflections ever shifting?
It’s because each fleeting image is a passion simply drifting.

A tear is transparent so you can see, through the pain that each soul feels,
The beauty, no longer hidden…the wisdom a tear reveals.
When you run from the pain life offers, when you refuse to face the day,
You are taking the dreams that lie hidden, and turning them all away.

Fragments of dreams are falling. Songs of passion from hearts filled with pain.
I am but a wondering soul seeking beauty. I have become a child of the rain.
Bitterness is just a prison. Fear is the lock you use.
Freedom is found in the chances, and heartaches if you choose.

There is a voice that is singing, to put broken souls at ease.
There is meaning in the reflections that most refuse to see.
Why do you, broken earth child, not see the passion in the pain?
I can not understand your fear. I am but a child of the rain.

The Crying Girl

I can hear someone crying. In the moonlight someone grieves.
Soft and quiet like the wind. Like the rustling of the leaves.
I walk through the forest, seeking to comfort that poor soul.
Secret tears reclaiming what a broken heart stole.

I can hear someone crying, yet there is peace among the stars.
Surely such pure beauty can reach down and touch her scars.
It sounds like something broken. Whispers carried by the breeze.
Clouds of tainted silver, restless as the troubled seas.

It is fragile, her soft crying. No one else will see or know,
How her diamond tears are breaking on the glistening floor of snow.
I reach the water’s edge and I see the girl at last.
Lit by shifting moonbeams. Sitting by a pool of glass.

I wipe away a tear, hoping she’ll know that it’s alright.
That peace is overcoming fear in the beauty of the night.
My reflecting looks at me. Gives a sad and wistful smile.
Content to know the crying girl has come to sit awhile.

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