Rain begins anew
Though the sky, its cradle
Remains the same
Cracked and patch worked sight.
The colour of dull, dreary dread
To some the colour of night
To some is light instead.
The pace and place
Of amazing grace to some
Is said to lead
And I would rather lead than be led.
A mark beneath the skin
Directs the bearer within
Toward the change from green to red
The change from is to what's been.
Yet firm anticipation
For the white that's on its way
Holds it stay until the day
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