#rain

RAINDROPS

 

When it seems like hate and evil are raining down…hard from the sky above…it’s a good time to remind ourselves many of those raindrops are also filled with love.

 

So when I’m caught in a shower…when from the heavens raindrops pour…

the raindrops filled with love are the ones I’m looking for

 

I look for love between any people…any color, shape, gender or size…

It can usually be found in the smiles they share…or the joy in each other’s eyes 

 

I look at how people treat one another with kindness…I look for how love expands

the moment two people become one by the mere act of holding hands.

 

I look for people laughing…dancing…

I look for a…a whisper…a stolen kiss…

I look for old friends coming together and see the love as they reminisce.

 

I look for strangers helping strangers…

I look at how a box of candy, a card, or a bouquet of flowers can impress…

I look for silent exchanges of tenderness…a gentle touch…a sweet caress.

 

I look for a man putting his head on his wife’s tummy and suddenly becoming aware…

he’s about to become a father…there’s a life growing in there.

 

I look at one mother listening to another woman’s chest and crying tears of joy once she becomes aware…she listening to the sound of her sons’t heart…her son’s heart…transplanted there.

 

I look for couples enjoying a sunset…eating a romantic dinner for two…

I listen for all the times in a day I hear the words…I Love You.

 

Each raindrop of love…no matter how big or small…has its own wonder…its own reason to  celebrate…because each raindrop filled with love has the power to silence each raindrop filled with hate. 

 

And how do we know how much hate or how much love each raindrop might contain?

I imagine that all depends…

on how we view the rain.

 
 
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CAUGHT OUT IN THE RAIN

 

 

While on my walk this morning…as I navigated the terrain…a raindrop fell upon my shoulder and I thought…how love is a lot like getting caught out in the rain.

 

You’re walking along…minding your own business…just like every other day…when you feel that first raindrop…you’re taken aback…and you try brushing it away.

 

Then the next raindrop hits and then another…you’re confused…you begin to fret…you were just out walking…you weren’t ready to get wet.

 

But as more and more raindrops keep falling you realize…you have less to lose and more to gain…so you stop fighting with your feelings and you give in to the rain.

 

And when you do…when you allow the rain to soak into ever crevice…every pore…you smile and you dance more than you’ve ever smiled or danced before.

 

And you think…it was only a short while ago…you tried to brush away that drop…but now…wherever you are walking…you don’t want the rain to stop.

 

And as it becomes a little easier to enjoy life’s blessings and to endure its aches and pains…you realize how lucky you were…to get caught out in the rain.

 
 
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OLD MAN CAUGHT IN THE RAIN

 

 

In the middle of my walk this morning…as my health I try to maintain…I was greeted from the heavens…with an unexpected rain.

 

It’s funny how it works…as the first raindrops and you collide…you immediately look around…for a safe, dry place to hide.

 

But I walk through old neighborhoods…and I didn’t think it bright…to hide on a strangers porch…while still blanketed by the night.

 

Which left me only one option…given the circumstances my reasoning was sane…if I didn’t want to get arrested…I’d have to give in to the rain.

 

And so I did and as I watched the raindrops upon my body find their way…all my apprehension about getting wet…miraculously faded away.

 

There was a rhythm to the rain…I could hear it…I could feel it in my feet…and before I knew it…there I was…dancing in the street.

 

I imagine if anyone was awake and watching…they would think I was insane…and wonder what this old man was doing…dancing in the rain.

 

But I take my walk quite early…it’s a routine for years I have been keeping…which means in most of the houses that I pass…the people are still sleeping.

 

What a shame…I thought to myself…for if this morning they happened to look out their windowpanes…

they would have seen an old man feeling like a young boy

encouraging them to join him…

outside…

dancing in the rain.

 

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A MOUNTAIN RAIN

 

 

The sun has surrendered to the clouds…now only a suggestion of the mountains remain…as we sit upon the porch swing…and listened to the rain.

 

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

and we marvel how some raindrops find their way onto the ground

while others linger in the trees.

 

We find ourselves drawn to our bed…as raindrops cascade from the sky

the soft music they’re composing…creating the perfect lullaby…

 

As we close our eyes and listen…to her music soft and deep

we find the melody so soothing…we drift…slowly…off to sleep…

 

Until we hear a tapping…upon our window pane

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

 

We walk back to the porch swing…as the rain beguiles and enthralls

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

 

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

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

 

The rain stops as quickly as it began…the mountains all return

as nature once again reminds us…of all we 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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CAUGHT IN A DOWNPOUR

 

 

It was an unexpected downpour…that burst out of the sky.

The older couple huddled under their lone umbrella…trying to stay dry.

 

Until they saw two young girls…with a joy so beautifully unrestrained

laughing,

jumping, 

dancing…

playing in the rain.

 

The old man began to smile, held his arms out high…

then walked from under the umbrella..leaving his wife behind….

“Come back under here you insane old fool.” His wife demanded…

but the old man…he gracefully declined.

 

“Do not worry about me.” he said. 

“I am neither foolish nor insane...
It’s just...I had forgotten what it feels like…

to stand out in the rain.”

 

His wife closed up their umbrella…

and with a joy so beautifully unrestrained…

they laughed, 

they jumped 

they danced together…

playing in the rain.

 
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WHEN THE STREETS ARE WET

 

 

There is one kind of beauty in a morning walk illuminated by the moon..and yet…there is a different kind of beauty walking after a rain…when all the streets are wet.

 

The streets take on a glow…one you never see at noon…the shadows seem to shimmer in light reflected from the moon.

 

There is a freshness in the air…a coolness in the breeze…as it carries with it raindrops it has shaken from the trees.

 

Still enough raindrops remain upon the trees…those unable to take flight…giving the trees a feeling of Christmas…as they sparkle in the night.

 

Age seems to fade away…as you breathe the misty air into your lungs…as you splash around in puddles…like you did when you were young.

 

If you listen to the crickets…the owls…the nightingales…you find it difficult to decide…if you are hearing more sounds than usual…or if they’re just amplified.

 

You stop a moment…look up…and give thanks…grateful you’ve been allowed…to watch the moon, the stars….the planets…playing hide and seek among the clouds.

 

And you pause as you’re walk is ending…trying to remember everything because you don’t want to forget…

the sights

the sounds

from your morning walk…

when all the streets are wet.

 
 
 
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LISTENING TO THE RAIN

Remember as a child…when it was raining and you sat by your window pane….

knowing you could’t stop the raindrops…you quietly watched the rain?

 

As you sat watching raindrops cascading from the sky

without making a sound

you knew eventually the rain would stop and be absorbed into the ground.

 

And even when the rain stopped falling and the sun was shining

although you knew not where or when

you understood there’d come come a time the rain would fall again.

 

I wonder if these moments were preparing us

for when a friend’s or lover’s tears fall like rain.

knowing we can’t stop their teardrops we sit beside them

and quietly watch their pain.

 

As we watch teardrops cascading from their eyes

as down their cheeks they scroll

we know eventually their tears will stop

and be absorbed into their soul.

 

And even when their tears stop falling and their smile returns

although we know not where or when

we understand those tears absorbed into their soul

will fall from their eyes again.

 
 
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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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