The Rain Gently Falls
by Cathy Roberts
The rain gently falls so feather-soft upon my soul.
The tears of God, born of sadness known only of eternity.
My love will last forever, as will your death my brother.
Perhaps it is as well, for I fear you would not care for the world today.
The fall is here and on the wane, the once bright colors slowly dying.
All too soon, the cold breath of winter will be upon us.