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January Rain Song
Folder:
Seasonal This January morning
I sing the songs
my mother taught me.
I sing to the rain's
sober gaity;
I sing to the sun;
I sing to the earth;
I sing to the skybird's
soaring wings.
Turning pages
by candlelight,
I put moods into words.
Who can ignore
a January rainsong?
It was a day like this,
I believe, that
the world was created.
It must have had something
to do with the rain.
