I love the music of the morning
as rain drops
beat out their rhythms
on my bedroom window panes.


I have heard that beat before
under tin roofs
in faraway jungles,
where lonesome young warriors,
not understanding 
the rhythms of the rain,
nor life,
cried to that beat
of that falling rain.


Now, that I am laying here
next to you,
I have no fears.
No anger.
No worries about bombs
or tomorrows.


I have learned to love
that rhythm of the rain.
I have learned to love you.
I have learned to love me.


So, I am satisfied
just sleeping here with you,
while listening to the falling rain
and the beating of your heart.


I have learned to love both.
as if somehow,
they were only one,
and not separate hearts