O blessed the rain
for the queen returns…
Shadow of the raven
picking a seed-
yellow still
from a drought
black cars pass
in the past
I fed the sunshine
in stead of worship
the crow
Sometimes the world just stops for us – for a moment –
for crossing the traffic lights.
Are those your hands holding my heavy head – ? –
stuffed with migraine.
Would your physicality make mine ever dance –
do you think we can ever stop the rain?
Antonio Carlos Jobim – Aquarela do Brasil