When heaven pours its silver streams,
A generous gift the Creator sends,
One lifts the face to catch the gleams
Of mercy’s shower that earth befriends.

The rooftops drum a steady beat,
A rhythmic song from realms above;
Each drop a note, both cool and sweet,
That stirs the weary earth to love.

The air grows heavy with the scent
Of petrichor, that wild perfume—
Damp soil and leaves in sweet consent,
A fragrance born from heaven’s bloom.

Upon the skin the droplets trace
A thousand chill and silken lines;
They wash the dust from barren space
And chase the drought from thirsting minds.

One tastes the rain upon the tongue,
A crisp and pure celestial wine;
As scripture falls where souls have clung,
It makes the barren spirit shine.

For as the rain and snow descend
To water earth and make it bud,
So does the Creator’s word descend—
It shall not return to Him void, but flood

The heart with life, with seed, with bread,
Reviving all that once lay dry;
In thee the hidden joys are fed—
One loves the rain from heaven’s sky.