The sound of rain is manna to my ears.
It patters on my skylight and it drums
upon my roof. It hammers or it thrums,
and I attend its rhythm. When it clears
I yearn to have it back – a storm cloud nears
and I get set to savor how it strums:
the sound of rain.

Perverse my humid preference appears,
but all my life precipitation comes
to me as comfort – lack of rainfall bums,
for I prefer to music of the spheres
the sound of rain.

(Rondine)