Rain is a condition you come to love or hate.
Sometimes a sprinkle, sometimes more,
but never failing to remind you of a more powerful force.
It continues to gather until it is so powerful that it must fall.
Must come down out of the clouds into reality.
Everywhere you go, it goes too.
It will always be that burden or that sense of relief you can never truly escape.
And the moment you think you have finally outwit the rain;
Finally escaped into a brighter day, it will storm.
very good writing, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and say something.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I guess the best we can do is to look for the rainbow after the storm. Ever the optimist, I look at rain as a necessity for the fields of flowers to flourish...May PEACE be your umbrella. By the way...it just started to rain here. Your write is lovely.