Rain, wash away fear and revive our lives;
we need to lift our feet past tired, old lies.
We have come to believe in our own doubt:
we chew on rage and stifle spirit’s shout.
The mind desperate to proclaim itself,
denies the stillness that nourishes health.
May the sun of royal love rise at dawn,
to our high praise of his radiant crown!
We are lost without the mercy of Meher’s light-
where is the grace of his compassionate sight?
The sound of his name is soft, caressing rain,
that invites his love to wash away all pain.
Darvish thanks the gracious earth for support,
and walks on with the friend’s name for comfort.
