A story about a rainfall
Born high up in a cloud
Unusually blissful and small
Sun and Sky were truly proud.
Every rainfall’s whimsy
Was the coming of the ‘great fall’
‘Landing on trees’, said many
‘Is what we look forward above all.’
Others say rooftops or any solid
Will create beautiful melodies
While some wouldn’t mind
Said surprises could be any place.
But this one small rainfall
Had another adventure in mind
‘It would really be wonderful
If I meet and greet a child!’
‘How could that be possible?’
All argued to the small rainfall
‘A child will never notice you
Among billions of us in the fall!’
‘Well’, it said self-assuredly
‘Was I not born extraordinary?’
‘So how can a child miss me
When you are nothing like me?’
about the rain 