raindrops

It is raining, perhaps clouds voiding their deepest longings! Upon the streams I have drove those paper boats to the farthest. Listening to the lonely drops of rain I am trying in vain to sing melodious, Alas the voice ends deep within! Were you the song within? O my dear, but I know you are silence that sings wordless, a melody hummed nameless!

Sometimes the rainfallsjust for you and meto be the violinplaying in the backgroundof our loneliness's song.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

Rain is a lullaby heard through a thick, isolating blanket of clouds. It is the tinkling harp of water droplets; a moist breath whistling through willow reeds; a pattering beat background to the mourner's melody. Rain is a soft song of compassion for the brokenhearted.

I look out of the window again. The rain is trickling down silently, evenly, like the tears that cover my face. Perhaps God is in the water, in the raindrops. I put my hand against the cold pane to be close to Him. To be as close as I can without imposing.

She lay outside in the courtyard, staring up at the raindrops_ feeling them hit her body_ trying to guess where one would land next. The nuns called again, threatening that pneumonia might make an insufferably headstrong child a lot less curious about nature.

Perfection"Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind.Every star-thistle has a thorn.Every flower has a blemish.Every wave washes back upon itself.Every ocean embraces a storm.Every raindrop falls with precision.Every slithering snail leaves its silver trail.Every butterfly flies until its wings are torn.Every tree-frog is obligated to sing.Every sound has an echo in the canyon.Every pine drops its needles to the forest floor.Creation's whispered breath at dusk comeswith a frost and leaves within dawn's faint mist,for all of existence remains perfect, adorned,with a dead sparrow on the ground.(Poem titled : 'Perfection' by R.H.Peat)

My tears of joyhear the raindrops crying,as the rain never wants to pourdown on my cloudy dayswhen I makeour love-dreamsfor the sun to dreamonly for you....(From the poem "Only For You" By Munia Khan)

If wishes were held on the skin and swiped by raindrops, then emotions were freeloading off the cells that made up their space. The only offering these cells ever entertained was truth, painful and raw.

When you become a raindrop in your mind Thunder is the closest friend you may find Wind lashed trees, dark clouds, lightning or the dust Everything you will bear once you adjust

Brushing the clouds away from my eyes, I see clarity in the raindrop and beauty in the first ray of morning sun...Life is strange and wondrous...

It commenced raining one day and did not stop for two months. We went through ever different kind of rain they is, cep'n maybe sleet or hail. It was little tiny stinging rain sometimes, an big ole fat rain at others. It came sidewise an straight down an sometimes even seem to stand up from the ground. Nevertheless, we was expected to do our shit, which was mainly walking upland down the hills an stuff looking for gooks.

While outside the window, the raindrops pitter pattered on leaves that shivered and sparkled, inside we made love for the first time!

Is it the raindrops pervading my being?or is it your lips touching my skin?

I used to sit in front of my father's Jag, watching the raindrops run their kamikaze suicide missions from one edge of the windshield to the wiper blade.

A plop of rain hit me on the face, one of those early raindrops that turns up five minutes ahead of all the others to let you know it's time to get indoors.

Love can crystallize things. When love is in the air, distressing rain can become a wonderful avalanche of shimmering diamonds. Raindrops are transformed into a flood of sparkling crystal pearls. The power of love can convert rain into a multitude of glittering prisms. The mental seduction of love and a boundless illusion, inflamed by a profound uprising emotion, can change any ordinary incident into a radiant, luminous voyage. ( "Crystallization under an umbrella" )

I heard raindrops in the nightPattering upon my eaves,Like a pleasing lullabyEasing me back to sleep,Which I thought was odd a bit,For I awoke because of it.