Praying for Rain

I have walked the path.
I paid the price.
I freed the child.
And severed from the past.

I crossed the desert,
climbed the mountain,
danced atop.
And I have claimed my wings.

I’ve glimpsed the future,
crossed the keyhole,
shed my skin.
And launched myself towards below.

I prepared the ground.
I planted the seeds.
So now I ask you:
help me help you.

Please make it rain, oh make it rain.
Make it rain and fill my wings.
For the ground is approaching
And my bones are heavy...

...and maybe not so heavy any more.
One second of the fall is worth
a hundred years of climbing.

It’s the past I’ve seen, not the future.
I’m not the one who launched.
I am the fall.

I’m not the one who moves.
I am the movement.

I am the rain.
Eye am the harvest.

Who needs to pray
when one can cast a spell.