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The rain tinkles and falls softly over the gray world. It washes away the grime and dirt, and makes the world new again.
When the rain ends the world smiles, and tries out its new clean face.
Things are brought alive by the small silver drops falling from the sky. They have life giving powers.
The rain gives life to things that are waiting for it. Crocuses, Violets, Star flowers and Daffodils are all given life by it.
The rain reminds the green grass of the life it once had and encourages it to start over again.
The small wet drops run down the tops of trees and fall all over the branches, it helps the trees to start moving again and unfurl their bright green leaves.
The rain can come suddenly and with fury. It will lash at everything and beg them to start life again.
In the winter rain is rarely ever seen, and longs to remind the fields and trees, grass and flowers of their former lives.
In the spring the rain is gentle and sweet, it gently pushes things to the surface and helps them to grow. It is soft and kind in the spring.
In the summer it is violent and ferocious, it lashes everything in its path. However it is also warm and heavy, and leaves a delicious sent after it ends.
In the fall it appears in fog and mist, in small, small drops that make the leaves on the trees glisten and shine.
The rain falls where the creator sends it. It renews and restores life; however it can also lashes out angrily and harshly against the world.
The rain is a many faceted thing. It has faces that have many sides. Kindness, and harshness, soft and hard, cold and warm.
When the rain comes we rejoice, it will wash the world new and it will allow us to see the thing we desire most at this time.
Spring! The rain shall bring us the glories of that time. The beauty and the wonder of it. The rain shall wash away the snow that has blanketed our poor ground for many months. It shall clear away the mud and dirt that is covering every surface. It shall force the snow and mud to give up it's hold on this land, and it shall help this dreary gray world that we live in to turn into the fresh green world that we so long to see.
We hear the rain as it does it quite work. With a drip and a plop it hits the ground. With a dance and a tinkle it falls onto our roof.
We watch as it runs along the roof and into our gutter. It travels down through it and goes to water the ground that waits to drink up its supply. The ground longs to have the rain. It is parched and knows that when the rain falls it will be satisfied. It drinks up the small fine drops that it is given because the ground knows, that with the rain, it will see the return of life.
The rain loves to dance and twirl and spin. It loves to play and admire itself with its many faceted eyes.
The rain had no care where it falls, or when. It does what it pleases. It is a wild thing that cannot be controlled by any save God.
He is the one who causes the rain to fall. It falls over the spinning earth, it causes rainbows that remind us of His promise.
We delight in the rain.
We love its beauty, and its majesty.
Sometimes it plays with us as a kitten, and other times it is a ferocious lion.
It falls on everything, everywhere. Never does it stop its descent when it has been unleashed.
Small teardrops, slivers of rain fall on the world, making it cry out.
The rain makes things grow anew, it laughs with us and cries with us.
It is itself only, nothing more nothing less.
It is the rain.