The Rain and the Renegade

I know the rain falls from the sky, but that is what the world has told me.

What if the world was lying, because the vast white sky is our king?

Am I a renegade if the trees are my lords?

I only see the rain against their backdrop, so why must it belong to the skies?

I see, with every sway in the wind, the leaves beget a string of water,

The sky just roars as the bearer of good news,

When the trees are pregnant with the dew.

It is them that the raindrop serves when it falls unto the ground.