Sometime the falling rain must stop
silently the rainbow comes
the birds begin to sing
I’ll take my cue from spring
it’s time to be born again; the spirits
of the plants all around me are telling me
to grow to blossom, to flower and give up the perfume
of my soul; I know it’s tuberoses that come to me in my
fields of dreams and my muse demands a stream of poetry
to drive away the draught so here it comes from the bottom of my heart