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Dust in the wind flies heavenwards, When it meets rain it becomes mud and sinks. P. Twitchell
Once more I am the silent one
who came out of the distance
wrapped in cold rain and bells:
I owe to earth's pure death
the will to sprout.
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.
"Tears are like rain. They loosen up our soil so we can grow in
different directions."
With new hope, We build new lives. Why complain when it rains? This is what it means to be free.
The hoop dancer dances within what encircles him, demonstrating how the people live in motion within the circling spirals of time and space. They are no more limited than water and sky. At green corn dance time, water and sky come together, in Indian time, to make rain.
There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you will still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everyhting
No more prizes for predicting the rain, only prizes for building the arks
Outside, the rain sometimes comes down so hard, we have to talk louder, and it feels like a miracle that the roof holds. It makes for a coziness and a gratefulness, too, that you have the choice to not be out in it. You can sit at the table and look out the window and not have to feel what you see.
I remember once when we were moving, driving across country, and it was raining so hard, the windshield wipers going fast and squeaking, and then: nothing. It stopped. I looked out the window ahead of me and it was clear. I looked out the back and there was the rain, still going. Nobody said anything, but there it was, a near miracle, a rain line, a way of seeing just where something starts, when usually you are just in the middle of it before you notice it. That's how it feels to me now, to not want to be like (that) anymore. I see the line.
The same rain that wears down stone, can refresh each of us.
When one is overcome by this wretched, clinging desire in the world, one's sorrows increase like grass growing up after a lot of rain.
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