at last some rain

let rain come the yellow haze covers
all of the earth at least all we can see
spewed forth by the calm dark tree
the germ-cells seeking their lovers
a sign that all of life now recovers
and from these forests down the lea
the heavy air smothers fly and bee
yet overhead a hungry hawk hovers
it's time to cleanse the natural spaces
wash off the pollen let green rise
each branch of nature does its part
but still the grey hangs on our faces
the dullness closes all our eyes
yet spring rejoices in each heart

welcome all that comes

if we ask more than nature gives we lose
not only for the moment but for all
life does not answer our most urgent call
the thing we know is that each may refuse
and not need to give us any plain excuse
life's a wild dance not a sedate spring ball
green in the flag will never seem to pall
we need to act and we have but to choose
each time we face the rising eastern sun
each time we see it sink down in the west
we know the wheel has made its proper turn
and does it matter who has lost or won
or simply that each has faced their test
and come to understand and see and learn

my folk of rain and calm

there's something here that soothes the tired eye
not just the calm and softness of the rain
pearl-grey and soft the clouds reframe the sky

we've waited and we've wondered at the drain
of strength and water from the tired ground
creek feeds to creek and river flows to plain

now here our steady quiet magnifies the sound
from radio and from bird the moments change
as we have come to value all we've found

all that's familiar does not now become strange
the world has turned the winds have taken cloud
the clouds have played their role in the exchange

and yet we know that nothing seems so loud
as all the growth that's brought together parts
into a complex whole of which nature is proud

and which brings comfort to the driest hearts

there is no heresy

there's much to do and little time we're told
to do it all in and yet we each must find
within our hearts and deep in every mind
not just firm metal but the purest gold
the year changes from cold to hot to cold
and yet each day we're at the same old grind
driven by fear that we'll be left behind
and find ourselves to have become too old
now here's the deal at least we're so informed
the numbers change and so do all the signs
trees and machines mark out the hectic times
and yet we know that every heart that warmed
at sight of flower's been caught on age's tines
leaving us here with pale memory and rhymes

the cricket plays her old guitar

to be and not to seem that's the true end
our anger and our joy must be held down
the foulest one may turn out our fair friend

we aren't allowed to posture nor pretend
speak in the country as we do in town
to be and not to seem that's the true end

whatever we understand we must defend
the hero has the same rights as the clown
the foulest one may turn out our fair friend

it never matters what any might intend
we show a smile we also show a frown
to be and not to seem that's the true end

we're told to borrow and we're told to lend
the judge's robe becomes the scholar's gown
the foulest one may turn out our fair friend

what we receive will not be what we send
the workman's cap will not become a crown
to be and not to seem that's the true end
the foulest one may turn out our fair friend