Rain: A Metaphor for Freedom

The neat thing about being a packrat is how even when you forget yourself, your documents and keepsakes always remember you. This week I am cleaning out old spaces to let new light in.

I am going through boxes that are more than a decade old and found this piece of awesomeness.  I wrote a poem for a class on November 3, 1999. I was 19 and a sophomore at North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University. Aggie Pride!

Here it goes:


I prayed for rain and I patiently await her arrival,
I called for her to calm my sorrowed spirits,
Yearned for her to speak freedom’s fate into existence.
Cried for her to remove fear from my heart when
Looking into the lazy blue eye of the devil himself.
He was speaking in a language unknown,
Leading me toward oceans of certain death.
I prayed for rain and still I wait.

I danced for rain and she pretended to be oblivious,
I performed for her as if she were the Creator himself,
I perfected my movement before the sunrise on the Coast,
Now I hail her with spiritual songs under
Blazing death in fields of King White.

I dreams of days when we were together,
Running beside the Nile in laughter,
Speaking of old times with Pharaoh
I was taken away from her comforting arms,
Now I dance for her and she cannot see me.

We were as one, in the likeness of the spirit,
Together as sisters in time, I crave her cleansing,
Nurturing, purifying my soul.
I will give my life and fight till the death to find rain,
We will be reunited, or fighting I will remain.


In the photo you can see that the Professor writes “Did you notice the many places you could have left out words to make it more poetic”  <– I still STILL suffer from this issue of being verbose!

Let’s not focus on that though…I got an A.

Rain: A Metaphor for Freedom

Rain: A Metaphor for Freedom

My piece reminds me of a great worship song by MercyMe. I’m going to go back and read it again, and use this song as a soundtrack. You too? 


One thought on “Rain: A Metaphor for Freedom

  1. Pingback: Destiny Ramjohn Edit. Musings on the Inanimate. | Destiny Q. Ramjohn

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