which day?

Take you up that dusty mountain
beneath the PVC rainbow.
It never rains, you feel thirsty,
so away I go, down to yonder brook
with holey pail to fetch, and leave you
alone on summit high or most indescribable
when the dust runs up the trees and rises
on a tornado,
and God comes out from behind a black baked sun,
you've been staring too long,
and makes it rain quick, fast, so
by the time I am back you are
among the verdant green and
wispy grasses, minnows and
streams, trees and things,
and catch you
singing on
a blossoming branch.