Tin roof’s voice

Rain that falls creating mist, splashing as it does on rusted tin.

Roofs that channel grace away, preserving dry my home so frail.

Under roofs we each can live. Safe, so dry, ignoring rain.

Yet the world above us whispers -“blessing’s grace awaits your face!”

 

As the storm’s ferocious voice, gathering strength, rains down with force,

my heart invites me to step outside, to welcome fresh this caress of grace.

Mystery sings as cool breeze blows, rain’s refreshment in the midst of heat.

Here renewed, my spirit lifts, to live your joy and dance your glee.

 

I am loved, I’m known, then found. I’m free to live out way beyond

Face uplifted in the rain, my dreams take flight within my brain,

Alive to life. my destiny sings. What once was binding no longer stings!

I sense awakening . Your flow enlivening. The tin roof’s gone, so I can move on!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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