A Day Without Rain
by Roann de Veyra
Again so stingy with the vocals save her humming. I could dream my mom putting me to slumber.
This time veering from the usual cadence of synthesizer bursting and flowing in harmony that only Enya could imagine.
Without the calisthenics of Elton John, the piano is simple and refreshingly streamed as the beads of the rosary is strung by a nun.
A pole apart from the andante of booming percussion of Tempus Vernum and Deora Ar Mo Chroi, transporting you in trance to Celtic movies when warriors rode their horses behind the ravages it has wrought.
A Day Without Rain. Yes it is very easy to picture myself on a bed of wildflowers so famous in Ireland. A sea of blue lilacs abundantly sowed by an unseen hand.
So far away.
Yet you just have to transpose your x, y, and z and lo and behold.
Maybe this was why God created the clouds. God could pour the rains directly if that is what we need.
There are times when I caught myself looking up hoping for answers to questions not really defined. On the infinite heavenly canvas, there it is, lazily rendering the sky with art for those who care. The harbinger of rain.
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This was inspired by Ms. Bea Lapa’s blog entry "
Enya: A Day Without Rain I’ve Heard it all before"
luv'it! wahahaha! 
