Where does one run to escape from feelings?

Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn’t...

And sometimes you realize the value of the rain by knowing how unreliable and vanishing the rainbow is.

When this flood blocks the road I am worried more by my soil getting washed, than by getting late to reach my destination.

You pray for rain, you gotta deal with the mud, too. That’s part of it.

Loving you is like walking between rain drops.

I reach for her hand and wind my fingers through hers, turning them so the rain patters down onto her palm. I trace a circle there with my thumb, smoothing the water in her skin....

The vast world rainless, one may bid adieuTo charity and penance.

Some people say the rain with no purpose and others say with memories and wishes

Physical Education”Make sense…

It has been raining here for ten years.I keep an accurate record of time and can state this with no fear of contradiction.

The dead do not needaspirin orsorrow,I suppose.but they might needrain.not shoesbut a place towalk.not cigarettes,they tell us,but a place to burn.or we’re told:space and a place to flymight be thesame.the dead don’t need me.nor do...

Only Something In Me Understands The Voice Of Your Eyes Is Deeper Than All Roses. Nobody, Not Even The Rain Has Such Small Hands.

But there is such a crowd already in the house tonight as there hasn’t been for long enough. It never rains but it pours, we say in Bree.

Do it again and again. Consistency makes the rain drops to create holes in the rock. Whatever is difficult can be done easily with regular attendance, attention and action.

That water supply is lost revenue for my city’s utility company. The rain that falls on my neighbor’s land is city water, and whether they collect it in barrels or wastefully let it seep into...

When I could hold my eyes open long enough, I did stare up at the rain pelting down on me. I’ve never looked at it like that, straight up into the sky, and while I...

Watching the rain is as beautiful as watching the sunset or the sunrise and it is even better because in addition to watching you can also listen to it, the fantastic music of the drop...

He took me down and out into the afterlife of the brightly lit streets, a haze of rain around each streetlight like a galaxy, the whole street a universe spread out like a banquet.

The scatterbrain,is a little like,the patter of rain.Neither here,nor there,but everywhere.

…in my dream the shadings of your soul are the dark tincture of rain…

I dedicated my 20s, my passion and energy to the name ‘Rain.’ I always did my best, and I thought if I did, it would eventually show, and even if it didn’t turn out well,...

en la lluvia, cuando le recuerdo.

The only noise now was the rain, pattering softly with the magnificent indifference of nature for the tangled passions of humans.

Innocent droplets of rainMake almost all eventsQuite natural.(from “A Rainy Day”)

Umbrellas raining upon me, as these cloudy tears give me shelter.

There is some way to go yet before we are out of the woods. We need more rain.

Rain”Oh amiable rainWasher of treesand roofswho has prepared themforthe pink rayof evening(“Poems”)

Though ‘Fire and Rain’ is very personal, for other people it resonates as a sort of commonly held experience… And that’s what happens with me. I write things for personal reasons, and then in some...

Rain, it always reminds me of water. And you know how much I love things that remind me of other things. Say, that reminds me…

I inhale loneliness like it is the sweet smell of virgin earth conquered by fiery rain drops. Within me, I’m a thousand others.

Look at the rain long enough, with no thoughts in your head, and you gradually feel your body falling loose, shaking free of the world of reality. Rain has the power to hypnotize.

I flera hundra år hade hans förfäder sått säd. Det var en handling av andakt en tyst och mild, vindlös kväll, helst i ett litet beskedligt duggregn, helst så snart som möjligt efter det grågässen...

I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is pressedAgainst the earth’s sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at God all dayAnd lifts her leafy arms to...

And the drops of rain. They are delicate, at first, their splashes graceful against pavement. Soon, though, the soft patter grows into a furious storm.

The fig tree had dropped its fruit all over the ground. Ripe figs lay in the dust, exploded, bloody, as if the sky had rained organs.

I remember when I was a little girl, I played with water and went running in the rain. Ah! precious childhood moments.

It is not in the house,” lied Bulbuk. It rains…Bulbuk is walking wet in the yard, for the neighbour to see that the umbrella is not at home. But the neighbour is not watching. He...

Or I would be the rain itself, wreathing over the island, mingling in the quiet of moist places, filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind, whispering through the tangled...

Heaven opened and the water hammered down, reviving the reluctant old well, greenmossing the pigless pigsty, carpet bombing still, tea-colored puddles the way memory bombs still, tea-colored minds.

It was true that the city could still throw shadows filled with mystifying figures from its past, whose grip on the present could be felt on certain strange days, when the streets were dark with...

Roy: “Looks like it’s starting to rain”Riza: “But..It’s not raining…”Roy: “Yes it is. This is the rain.

An optimist sees rainbows when there is rain.

You can’t rain on my parade. It’s an umbrella parade.

Let it rain to You and drips on me, together we will get wet

Jun was a calm lake; Tomo was a waterfall. And I was the water, swept every which way, unable to shape myself into what I wanted.

The sky in Seattle is so low, it felt like God had lowered a silk parachute over us. Every feeling I ever knew was up in that sky. Twinkling joyous sunlight; airy, giggle cloud wisps;...

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

Half asleep and half awake, I became lost in a deep span of my version of a perfect world. A place I wanted so desperately to reach, but would never find except from within the...

It started to rain. Fat, heavy drops of summer rain – the kind that always struck her as vaguely lewd and debauched. Little potbellied drunkards, those summer raindrops, chortling on their way to earth and...