Sideways Rain

I fell asleep in the promised land,
fingers crossed for a miracle.
There were crooked streets and fossilized fumes,
clouds gathered in droves to be heard,
nothing was said to the saints
and the sinners were rampant in their faith.
Maybe someone explained things wrong
but who’s the judge of character here?
I walked through a forest of rhetorical questions
and answered each one in kind with a bit of rhetoric,
wisdom squeezed out of quoted words from ages long past.
The clouds began to bathe the world in their own simple song.
It was mostly percussion, with a little woodwind thrown in,
but it was the best symphony I’d heard in years.
We drowned the crooked streets,
the saints and sinners were finally getting along,
but in the end all storms pass.
Including the good ones.