There is something about rain that makes me pause.
It may be the sound of raindrops falling on the roof. It may be the smell of wet soil. Or it may be the sight of tiny drops resting on green leaves. All it brings is sweet memories, a good feeling that the plants and life on Earth have got the love they deserve.
Whatever it is, rain has a way of reaching places that words cannot.
I often feel that rain is poetry for the soul. It gives us a reason to slow down, look outside and listen. For a little while, the world seems less busy. Even our thoughts seem to move more slowly. Whatever be our life’s current situation, a rain gives a warm hug, washing off all pain.
Perhaps that is why so many people say that rain is good for the soul.
Note: If you want to read the poem, just scroll down.
Why Does Rain Make the Heart Happy?
Rain brings back memories.
It may remind us of childhood days when we ran through puddles without worrying about getting our clothes dirty. It may take us back to a school holiday, a warm cup of tea, or a quiet evening spent near a window. Or it may remind us of the fantasy books we read on rainy days.
For some, rain brings peace. For others, it brings joy. And sometimes, it brings tears that have been waiting for a reason to fall.
I think rain makes my heart happy because it asks for nothing. We do not have to be cheerful when it rains. We do not have to finish our work or find the right words. We can simply sit and watch. And we need not pay a fee to watch the raindrops dance behind the windowpane.
There is comfort in that.
Rain Has Its Own Way of Healing
We often think of healing as a quiet and gentle process. But life does not always work that way.
Sometimes, healing begins when old feelings come back. Sometimes, we have to face things we have tried to forget. And sometimes, everything we thought was safe begins to change.
Rain can feel like that.
It washes dust from leaves and brings life to dry soil. But too much rain can flood homes, break trees and change the lives of people and animals.
Nature is beautiful, but it is not always kind.
Perhaps the same is true of healing. It can bring relief, but it can also bring change. It can make us look at our lives in a new way.
A Woman Who Asked the Clouds for More Rain
A strange woman became the heart of my poem, “Is the Fire Melting or Making Me?”
I did not want to write a simple poem about how lovely rain can be. I wanted to explore its many faces. Rain can make us smile, but it can also frighten us. It can clean the earth, but it can also take away things we love. It gives and also takes. Who knows, something beautiful can grow after that difficult time. Perhaps we do not always understand what a storm leaves behind until we see what blooms later. And I feel our soul too resembles the rain.
When Rain Teaches Us to Begin Again
The rain has moved away, but my little world is no longer the same.
I wonder if fate has played a trick on me. Or if someone is asking me to build my castles on higher hills, where they can stand for a long time.
We cannot stop every storm. We cannot keep everything we love from changing. But we can learn, rebuild and choose a stronger place to begin again.
That is one of the lessons rain leaves with me.
Rain Is Good for the Soul, Even When It Makes Us Think
Not every rainy day has to be happy. Some days, the grey sky may match the way we feel inside. A familiar song, a cup of tea and the sound of rain may bring back memories we thought we had left behind.
And that is all right.
We do not have to push every sad thought away. We can let it pass, just as we watch rainwater move along a road.
The next time it rains, take a moment to look out the window. Watch the drops fall on a leaf. Listen to the water running like a kid coming out of an 8-hour school day. Notice how the air feels.
You may find a little peace in that moment.
For me, rain is more than water falling from the sky. It is a memory, a feeling, a story and sometimes even a poem waiting to be written.
Rain is poetry for the soul. And every drop has a story to tell.
Is the Fire Melting or Making Me?
Jumping like a frog
into the puddle
washing dirty linen in the rain
was a woman who had never seen mist.
She is not mad
The clouds said.
She turned into a duck
Exploring the submerged cities
Removing all filth.
Mysterious.
Yesterday,
I saw her behind the hay
Calling for more clouds
when the dam was cracking
like a bloated egg.
The overwhelmed frogs cried
Wishing the rain would go away
To calm their overworked throats.
The goats climbed the mountain
The survivors shivered
How long could they last?
She flew onto the tallest branch
Watching the stars flicker
And wished for more showers
Or a cloudburst
So the earth will cool
its volcanic heart.
Was she a rain lover
A shaman healing the Earth
Or a mad spirit wiping off clean slates?
She stood there in ankle-deep water
A beautiful woman with blue hair
Vengeance in her red eyes.
Holding a broken umbrella
And a scepter in her right hand.
I went near.
She whispered,
There is much more
for the earth to swallow.
She should be climate change.
Or a guardian deity
Before I could decide
She was a butterfly
Making a million flowers bloom
In a second.
Confused, I sat at the end of my broken tree house
Watching the torrent move away.
Was it fate playing in my life
Or someone pushing me to build castles
on the high hills
to stand forever?
— Shalini Samuel
While this storm tested the strength to survive the flood, read about the sacred patience of waiting through the drought in The Almighty is the Provider: A Farmer’s Poem While Waiting for Rain.
