The air feels heavy.
Laden with moisture.
Clouds roll in.
The sky grows darker.
The first drops fall.
Water pounds on the roof
in a staccato melody of its own.
Pound, pound, pound.
Tap, tap, tap.
The rain washes our streets.
Clears our minds and souls.
Prepares us for a new day.


The rain hits the puddles in staccato rhythm.
A constant and mesmerizing sound.
Tree branches hang low–weighed down with water.
Flowers lift their shiny faces for their washing.
The cold, crisp rain refreshes.
The clouds dry out.
The sun returns to brighten the day.
The air smells fresh and clean.
A new day dawns.
A new beginning.


Please wash away my sorrow and pain.
Let it flow down the streets with the rain.
Dissolved in torrents of despair and sadness,
Joining others on its way past the madness.

The ocean may take it far away,
To places we cannot even say.
Where no one recognizes its sting
Or knows the infliction it can bring.

Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.

My body grows cold from the rain.
It stands clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path down my spine,
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.

I hold my head high to the wet spray.
It becomes a mist of blue and grey.
The faucet has turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and so right.


Rain washes away all impurities.<br /> It leaves the ground fresh and new.<br /> The fragrance of grass and flowers<br /> floats in the clean air.<br /> A good time to create and write.<br /> A good time to start anew.<br /> A new day for all.

Rain washes away all impurities.

It leaves the ground fresh and new.

The fragrance of grass and flowers

floats in the clean air.

A good time to create and write.

A good time to start anew.

A new day for all.