When I was a little girl I thought that rain was God crying
But the world is full of those who spend their lives, children's visions, denying.
I also thought the rays of evening light filtering through the clouds
Came off of God's fingers to touch each man, woman, and child.
This, too, was ridiculed as not in keeping with the Bible,
So I learned to keep to myself the visions with which my mind was full.
I am now sixty years old and my mind has fairly exploded
From trying to hide the visions with which my mind is loaded.
The mother of a friend of mine who starved herself to death
Had a favorite song that, I thought, her faith expressed.
She was told by the church people that her visions didn't fit in,
And that to question the authorities was a grievous sin.
What is left to those who want to shout out what they see:
The holiness in every person, animal, plant, you, and me?
Are we to take our visions and talents and take to our beds
Because the rejection of "those who know" is that which we dread?
Will we ever be allowed to sing out our child's faith praises
Without condemnation by those we are told are religion's sages?