The Rain

I listened to the rain today.

To its soft, subtle whispers

As it crept, in the vesper,

Down the chilling windowpane.

I listened to the rain.

I heard the things it had to tell

As it dripped, as it fell

From the sky, down to die

Where it rested, where it lay.

I listened to the rain.

In the silence there was no one

In the stilling dark of night—

With the breezes in their flight,

Where the moonbeams left their stain

Shining silver in the rain.

I listened to the rain again—

It spoke of things that once had been.

Softly murmuring its secrets

As it tumbled from the sky

Alone we were, the rain and I.

Now the heavens start to glow.

The night is failing, fading fast—

The rain is falling, till at last

The morning wakens, comes the sun—

And finally, now, the rain is done.

(Photo credit:


7 thoughts on “The Rain

  1. I wanted to take a look at your work over here as well and was greeted with this lovely rain poem! It’s so perfect and I think I might have even written a rain poem at one point as well! It’s wonderful to see someone else who treasures and captures the beautiful moments between raindrops.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Why, thank you very much! I think everyone’s written something about rain at one time or another; it lends itself so well to poetry. Is your poem on your blog? I’ll have to look for it.


  2. Loved the chilling/stilling and other -ing rhymes. They create a rhythm throughout your poem like the drumming of rain. For me, the next to the last stanza is the best: Softly murmuring its secrets/As it tumbled from the sky. Beautiful!

    Liked by 2 people

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