Canticle

Blue in the rain

A walk to a pond,

a perfect place to ponder.

I think thoughts,

Blue tears are gone,

But I like it, no need to launder.

In the rain, it falls to my quilts.

I cry and shout,

clouds trap my noise,

does my body wilt when the rain suffocates my voice? 

Surely not,

Back to the pond.

Use the dowsing rod

a guide, a responder,

treat such as a wand,

the guide to awe, the perfect place to wander.