#rain

CAUGHT OUT IN THE RAIN

We have a decision to make every time we’re caught out in the rain.

Do we concentrate on what we have to lose…or what we have to gain?

 

Are we sad that we’re getting wet and does that sadness cause us pain

or is there joy to be discovered…in every drop of rain?

 

We cannot choose when the rain will fall

sometimes we’ll win

sometimes we’ll lose

but how we react to the raindrops in our life…

that is something we can choose.



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FINAL WORDS

I was in the room when Grandpa died although I couldn’t hear

his final words to Grandma…when he whispered in her ear.

 

I was too far away and her voice too soft and low

for me to hear what she whispered back…before she let him go.

 

But once the flood of sadness receded into a slow and steady stream

I asked her what they whispered that day…and immediately she beamed.

 

“Have I ever told you how I met your Grandpa? She asked.

She smiled, “Then let me now explain….

I was walking home from school one day and it began to rain."

 

Your Grandpa, grabbed my hand and said, ‘Come with me’.

And we waited out the rain under the shelter of a tree.

 

The first date we ever had was out to eat and a walk along the beach when

in the middle of our walk it began to rain…again.

 

There was something about the rain for us…something magical and pure

We couldn’t resist it’s beauty, it’s enchantment…it’s allure. 

 

He asked me to marry him out in a downpour…

at first I thought he was insane..

‘I was waiting for the right moment,’ he said,

‘I was waiting for the rain'.

 

And then my grandma smiled and I could feel the love her smile contained…

The last words your grandpa whispered…he said…’I will miss the rain’.

 

And as he took his final breath and I knew his life was through…

I squeezed his hand and whispered back…I will miss it too.”

 

Now every time we visit Grandma…my family thinks I’m insane

when I look up at the sky and say…

“I hope we get some rain”.



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AHEAD OF THE RAIN

Folder: 
POESIE HERESY

 

I walk home

from the bar;

slightly buzzed

but moving ahead of the rain.

 

I glance at the sky

and notice the moon & stars

beginning to duck

behind the clouds.

 

The storm is coming

& with luck

I’ll be home

and tucked under the covers

before it hits.

 

 

 

 

 

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MISTY RAIN

On our walk the morning as we made the turn 

down a tree filled lane

we were greeted in the silence by a tender…misty rain.

 

We could feel a slight coolness brush agains our face…

and yet

so delicate were her droplets that we did not get wet.

 

So light…so mild was that touch of rain 

we barely could perceive her

so gentle even the most fragile flowers 

had to lift their petals to receive her.

 

I looked up to try and glimpse the mist 

floating against the backdrop of the dawn

but as quickly as she started…that misty rain was gone

 

And once again I had to smile 

as I thanked the rain for the simplicity of her greeting

reminding me to enjoy both life and beauty…

 

for both of them are fleeting.


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NIGHT RAIN

I love to listen to the rain. I love to feel it, to smell it, to stand in it a while

I am not ashamed to say…I am a pluviophile.

 

I love to sit on the porch and watch and listen as the raindrops fall

sometimes they can come down loud…other times they make no sound at all.

 

I love watching the rain advance in the middle of the day

with the thunder announcing its visit and lightning showing the way.

 

But there is something about a night rain…the one I cannot see

that stirs my imagination and fuels my fantasy.

 

The night rain comes as a surprise…completely unexpected

It softly tiptoes in, surreptitiously…undetected.

 

At first I think it is the wind…for the wind and rain share a melody

and in the darkness of the night…neither can I see.

 

So I step out on the porch and by then it’s very plain

It wasn’t just the wind….as I’m greeted by the rain.

 

Then off in the distance I hear a sound I hadn’t heard before

as the thunder muted by the night whispers instead of roars.

 

Then I see the lightning blink…across the sky I see it splash

and I smile thinking even God when he’s taking pictures knows at night to use a flash.

 

And for a while I am happy to sit and listen to the night sky weep

but eventually I head to bed and let the rain serenade my sleep.

 

With the hope that in the morning memories of my dreams will still remain 

 

for are there any better dreams than those inspired by the rain?


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CRYING IN THE RAIN

She did not want anyone to see her grief, 

her sorrow 

her sadness

her pain

So she waited for the clouds to form 

 

and did her crying in the rain.


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SINGING IN THE SHOWER

Was it the rain upon my roof that woke me at this early morning hour…

 

or the gentle voice of a lonely flower singing in the shower.


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LISTEN TO THE RAIN

The sun has surrendered to the clouds…

only hints of the mountains remain

and I am sitting on the porch swing…

listening to an afternoon rain.

 

There is a rhythm to the sound…it rises and falls upon the breeze

and I marvel how some raindrops find the ground

while others linger in the trees.

 

I find myself drawn to my bed…as raindrops cascade from the sky

The soft music they’re composing…creates the perfect lullaby…

 

As I close my eyes and listen…to her music soft and deep

I find the melody so soothing and drift…slowly…off to sleep…

 

Until I hear a tapping…upon my window pane

and I smile when I realize…I’ve been awakened by the rain…

 

And I walk bak to the porch swing…as the rain beguiles and enthralls

and find strength among the raindrops…for they are not afraid to fall…

 

And I find happiness in the rain…where others may find gloom

for I understand the sky must weep…if the flowers are to bloom.

 

The rain has stopped as quickly as it began…

the mountains all return

as nature once again reminds me 

of all I have to learn…

 

Like how, in a gentle afternoon shower,

there is so much to be gained

if one stops to take a moment…

 

and listen to the rain.


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Without You

The rain

Is too much to bear

With my shoulders

Carried down

My face awash with tears

 

The forest of death

Shadowed by building

And monsters in the place of men

The city is

Despair

 

A single thought

Spoken out

That killed a love

And a man

 

A single stone 

Always there

Above him

The messenger

Of fate

For all of us

 

I cry without strength

Iv'e fallen down

I don't wish to rise

My knees are home

I can't pray to the lie

Or the sky

Or a man

 

Death has taken him

And soon comes for me

Was it my fault

The wind reminds

Of all the words

Like knives

The knives he painted

A terrible beauty

His last work

Hiding his last

Words

A paper on the floor

Covered in pencil

Red

And regret

 

I couldn't have saved you

You said

I don't believe

You

No matter what you say

There is always 

A second road

 

A field

The one you loved

Where i loved you

 

A hill

No shade

Only sun

And

Blue

 

Only today

It's grey

Today

Is rain

Loss and grief

 

Taken by men

By me

Away

 

This day

Is death

I consider your path

At least then

I'd be sure

To see you again

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