on either foothills and plain,
storm clouds closed in
on our tiny town.
Bright lightning and loud thunder
ripped the wild skies asunder,
heaven's blessing soon
were pouring down.
A preacher, both old and wise,
smiled up at the stormy skies,
said, "Last Sunday we
all prayed for rain.
"We know the Lord's at our side
and He will always provide.
Our fervent pleas
were not made in vain."
An elderly native chief
clinging to an ancient belief,
proudly says, "Each time
these big rains come,
"it's by the Great Spirit's grace.
For this, I painted my face,
danced the rain dance,
and beat on my drum."
After thinking for a spell,
one wise old ne'er-do-well
said, "I'm not one to
trouble my brain.
"Why should we get all upset?
Why not just take what we get?
Long dry spells always
end with some rain."
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