Cleansing rain, won't you come
And wash away what she's become.
Heal her mind and sing to her
That peaceful song, a steady hum.
Cleansing rain, a long white dress.
She dances in the morning mess,
Her mind is free from misery
Like eagles that fly from their nest.
Cleansing rain, the pitter patter.
Former days have bred the latter,
Healing comes not a moment soon
For she's been bruised by bitter batter.
Cleansing rain peppers her mind
With hope and love, rhythm and rhyme.
She's free at last from loneliness
And all the things which kept her blind.
Cleansing rain from above
Can fill an empty heart with love.
Once bruised and bound by broken wings,
Now she'll soar among the dove. - poem by JA Perkins