Rain

Rain, Pounding against my windowpane, Causing a world wind of pain, That I cannot sustain. The anger it seems to portray, Such an expression that is deranged Why must I cry with the intensity of the rage, Of the rain, I fully oblige to taking part of, The sentiment of the rain’s nuisance. The drum line of nature’s own rhythm, Insisting its value. The admiration it longs for from the human race. The patience of the precipitation grows weary as The essence of its significance towards our race Is that of an rat race that will always be Never-ending. The power that lies beneath the surface of the rain, The physical attributes of the various raindrops All congregating together, creating an influential Force, of one race. Compelling against all surfaces it desires to Interact with. The leaves and trees are fond of the strength of the rain Equally, they are intimate in its company. The drops causally reside on the green foliage, as nature Coexists by the way of the ‘gifted’ race. Though often disregarded, the beauty of this earth, wind, water, Fire all has an abundant effect of serenity To those like myself, universally. Rain is beautiful. By: Stanielle Collins