Rain on the roof,
Clothes on my back;
It’s dry inside,
Though it’s only a shack.
Wind’s blowin’ hard,
But I do not fear —
Six layers of clothes
Do bring me good cheer.
The demons attack —
They make my thoughts jumble.
But through prayer and fasting,
The enemy crumbles.
Be not afraid;
You have what you need.
To God and His promises
We all must take heed.
God grants the rain,
The stars, sun, and moon.
Give thanks and give praise,
For He’s coming soon.
What comfort I receive
When gentle raindrops fall
Upon my roof — and I
Am dry beneath it all.
What comfort I now feel
When warm inside my bed,
Like mom who wrapped me in her arms,
And always kept me fed.
What grief I sense for those
Who under freeways sleep
Who struggle every day to find
Security to keep.
My heart is broken now
For families torn apart.
For strife and anger uncontained,
The wounds of broken hearts.
O, gentle raindrops, tell
Those suffering now from want,
That there’s a God Who loves them still;
He loves your broken heart.
That little house
So cozy and warm
It wasn’t a palace
But it surely was home
I’d stand on the heater vent
Placed in the floor’s corner
Until my shoes’ rubber soles
Got warmer and warmer
Though the air could be chilly
There was still welcome comfort
A place of safe haven
From the world’s disorder
Of course, I remember
The times of great sadness
Of arguments, conflict
And even some madness
But because of that little house
I still like to dream
Of warmth and of closeness
With loved ones esteemed
clarakatalin 