Showers cross the land so quickly in spring;
grateful tulips and daffodils yawn and open their lips
as nature’s beauty begins to sing.
I open my umbrella for these rainy-day trips
and from its sides the downpour drips.
The patter seemed harsh as tiny lilies bowed,
but the grass is finally turning green.
Fertile fields remain to be plowed;
boughs droop in the glistening rain’s sheen.
It happens every spring – by rain the Earth’s endowed.