Bright Rain of the West

Great Star of limitless flight
to Westward lands ever sought
in aspirations you hope
for perfections to obtain
in wilds untouched, unscathed by
man's harsh mind and love of own.
Light rain, dark rain protect the

Heart which Westward lands hold lost,
not understandable when
roots still thrive and voices sing
of remembered travelers
who might be gone past vail of
rain, oh light and dark, and hold
the view so far away. Even if

seen, the view retold, others
never shall know the beauty
of it, nor terror to have;
shall only hold the sight of
light rain, dark rain falling soft
before the mountainous black
constantly aiding the ill

to thrive where Great Star and Bright
Moon inspire the faithful to
love the valiant and seek
the garden where the fruit does
grow and save the possible
of knowledge and ever-life
once consumed by thoughtful hands.

Dark rain, light rain; spiteful sight,
deep within the heavy chest
laden hard with sorrowful
cries whom rack the memories
of footsteps washed away by
sodden sky, fast harsh Wind of
unrelenting forceful air.

Nightly words to Westward lands,
in hopes the sound can hear in
beats of rhythmic tones by blood;
to pray, to sleep, mournful rain,
falls dark and light upon graves,
prevent the thoughts beyond true
growth, stagnation sitting bold

and stubborn, like memory
rising in the feel of heart.
Bright Moon, silver mother change,
hold sway of the darker sky,
and shift the night to the stars
which break and bring close throughout
dark rain, light rain of today.