When It Rains Poem by Monkgogi 'Rhetoric' Moshaga

While it rains, I cry at freedom.
The water that disguise my tears,
The water that assure my children daily rations,
While it rains I cry out-loud, competing with that thunder,
Lightning that struck me, wet-lands that I plough.
Rain give me life, wash away my worries.
Wet my chapped heels and my dry throat,
Let there be for thine stock to wine.
While it rains, the clouds detain the sun.
Sunshine, let the sun shine.
For it is the kind blanket always, for my children in the winter,
While it rains we rejoice, we find refuge.
While it rains I worry about my mud hut, shall it go back to its roots
Or shall it be washed that somber there is for the remote African.
Rain flood away my worries and quench my thirst for joy.