I hear the sound of rain’s first drop
While walking in the wood.
Then it’s as if it just can’t stop,
Although, of course, it could.

I put my sea-green jacket on
And let the heavens pour;
It’s not as if I haven’t gone
Through heavy rain before.

An age ago, in ancient Greece,
As I was on the road,
It rained and rained without surcease,
Yet further on I strode.

No piddling rain can hold me back
From moving onward down the track.

Photo by Jonathan Klok on Unsplash

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *