Autumn s come And the leaves are lookin brown and dry. Sun swings low, A fruit resists the thirsty ground. Uselessly, I try to coax a cloud or two. Searchin the skies, Knowin there ain t nothing left to do. Summer s turned to gold, My garden s tired and old, The dust swirls round my bowl - And still, no sign of rain. Faithfully, I ve tended to my patch of land. Year by year, I ve scratched to keep my humble clan. Now and then Some thunderheads come out of the blue. Trouble is, They ve always been too far and few. Summer s turned to fall, The air is thick and cold, I feel it in my bones - But still, no sign of rain. Silence shades my lonely claim - Though all is gold, there is no rain. Still, I hear my singin bones And I believe Rain will fall.