Rainbow

Rain,
Falling, falling
Running, running
Rain

It pitters on the roof top
It patters on the window
In little rivulets through the grass it flows
Dancing in the puddles, plip, plip, plop

Rain, mist
Hiding the world behind its curtain
Like a mother on her child laying claim
Rain, mist

It swirls outside our walls
Dances in the winds call
From heavens high hall
To earth it fall's

Rain, mist, sunlight
Peeking through the curtain
Spirits flighting to and fro in fun
Rain, mist, sunlight

Slowly the mist clear's
Blown away on the spirits laughter
Until the world is revealed newer and brighter
Glistening and clear

Rain, mist, sunlight, rainbow
Blessed with every colors glow
Made fromm the suns arrows
Rain, mist, sunlight, rainbow

Painted with Gods own hand
A loving promise from our father
Joined together by water
To spread His name across the land

Rain, mist, sunlight, rainbow
Death brought life
 From water came light
Cause at the end God gave us a rainbow

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
 of the things unkown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and fat worms waiting on a down-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But the caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unkown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

By Maya Angelou

Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed
Once I heard and answered all the questions of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers...
How did it go?
How did it go?

By Shel Silverstein