Rain-Washed Grace

The rain streaks down my window pane, like tears on a worn face,
Washing the dust from market stalls, leaving a quiet grace.
I hear the distant vendors call, their voices soft and low,
As memories rise and gently fall, of seeds that we have sown.

[Chorus]
This rain, it falls, a steady beat,
But my anchor holds, deep and sweet.
This rain, it falls, a steady beat,
But my anchor holds, deep and sweet.

[Verse 2]
I recall my Tante's steady hands, stitching nets by the deep sea,
She spoke of currents, shifting sands, and faith that sets you free.
The old griot's stories, whispered low, of tempests we've survived,
A persistent light, begins to glow, in spirits still revived.

[Chorus]
This rain, it falls, a steady beat,
But my anchor holds, deep and sweet.
This rain, it falls, a steady beat,
But my anchor holds, deep and sweet.

[Bridge]
Beyond the tempest, past the fear,
A verdant shore will soon appear.
My spirit finds its soft respite, even when the world is dim,
An unwavering strength, an endless hymn.

[Outro]
Yes, my anchor holds, it holds me fast,
Through every downpour, 'til the last.