I opened my curtains
And saw those incandescent lights…
They whisper for me when the well has run dry
And your reflection is lost again;
Faithful for April.
If you ever listened for silence,
You might have understood
How the sun dims as it rises
In the morning—
In the mourning—
When it rains and the sun hides.
You might have understood…
So faithful for April showers to quench your thirst
Because Elijah’s could not.