wind and rain, smooth and grey
gentle hands caressing my mind
lifting my soul despite the gloom
they comfort the deaf, and soothe the blind
i lift my voice as my thirst is quenched
but a mischevous gust takes my song away
only to bring the notes back again
as its feathery fingers continue their play
each teardrop, each breeze, each firm, cool embrace
speaks of glory and peace to my wistful soul
though i long for the storm, and the calm that it brings
still content is my spirit: fulfilled, calm, and whole
wind and rain, refreshing my heart
more silent than death; sweeter than wine
melodies, harmonies, teasing my ear
weaving a song far fairer than mine
i am the deaf man; i am the blind
my senses are stolen by sunshine so bright
though others may smile at the rainbow horizon
i find greatest solace in the absence of light
weary from toil and sorrows abounding
i lie under shadows of cloud-strewn skies
dreaming of nothing (and finding it pleasant)
my vision returns when i close my eyes
wind and rain, fickle and fair
guiding the lost, inspiring the found
stilling the busy, exciting the sloth
chaining the free and freeing the bound
