This is a poem/song I have had stirring for several years now. The bucket I carry my tune in has a bunch of holes so I don’t generally sing it. I have forwarded it to a few bards in the past, but I don’t know whether any of them did anything with it. I am not in touch with people these days. These are the original words but the punctuation may be a bit off. The tune is slow, soulful to the point of a mournful ballad. It tries to say a lot without too many words. The tone and intent are everything.

We are down, sore and dry
Our balance lost and we wonder why.
Wounds run deep in this burned land,
And the crossroads stand at the heart of man.
The fires of fate will have their due,
Before powers unite it needs be renewed.

[Chorus]

Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Lift our hands, opened wide
Bring us the rain.

The sun’s deep kiss, to fire’s feed
No glistening dew bringing what we need.
The voices soft in all the noise
Our cries unheard, lost within the void.
This fall from grace and labor’s toil
No fruits to glean from barren soil.

[Chorus]

Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Lift our hands, opened wide
Bring us the rain.

A child’s smile, their face upturned
Their future bought hearts unconcerned
We seek the change, to heal the pains
The bonds to break, no more links in the chains
Fires rage out of control
To be restored we must first console.

[Chorus x2]

Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Bring us the rain, pourin’ down
Lift our hands, opened wide
Bring us the rain.

And bring us the rain.