Indefinite Impression
Woke up this morning
looked out my window pane,
gray clouds coming
bringing on that old falling rain -
highly indicitive
are drops made of dust,
the punctuality
of all things working out the way they must -
a rabbit under the bush
lays sleeping,
as birds gather to trees
weeping -
some
glad,
some
sad -
not a one can still
what must come,
the seasons shall roll on
until time itself is done -
and I a mere mortal
alone,
can only decipher so much
of the great unknown -
while these vaporous
indefinite impressions,
go right on recklessly teaching
life's most resolute lessons -
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Related quotes
Rain Keeps Fallin
I remember the night so well.
The rain was fallin but I just couldnt tell,
If it was you that was callin to my love-sick brain.
But the rain kept fallin on my window pane.
Out of the night the thunder rang in my ear.
I cant fight the feelin, lord, that brings forth my fears.
I wish it was over, lord, please stop the rain.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
Every night the rains on time, I can feel it in this heart of mine.
But I dont know what to do.
Well, I guess I could go back home, cause you know back home is where I belong.
But it just aint home without you.
And I dont know what to do, baby.
Well, I guess Im a looser but it just dont seem fair.
I lost all my life so tell me, why should I care?
The night that you left me is the night that it came.
And the rains still fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain ...
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
... keeps right on fallin.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said, the rain keeps fallin ...
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drought
Right through the veldt the grass are dried out yellow,
almost everything under the eye,
the sun burns trees and bushes,
whirlwinds blow red dust clouds high into the air
and it looks as if every bush and tree is stripped of leaves,
the sky is blue and open with all clouds missing
on farms cattle, bucks and sheep are bellowing and bleating
and farmers come to a confession
that all things comes from the hand of God, gather in towns
where they admit the dependence of man
where everything comes to a halt
and they pray to God for rain.
Even the most prominent people pray
while atheists sit in the bars
drinking tot after tot while moaning about the heat
and on the horizon lightning slams down white
while it’s pressing hot clouds gather
before a enormous rainstorm erupts,
a thunderbolt falls on the porch of a bar
rain rattles on the zinc roof
the thirsty red dust flies into the air with big drops falling,
are filled overnight with knee high green grass
and the animals that are feeding in the fields
go plumb to the markets.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
When your child was born
You might have learned certain lessons
As he or she was growing
The child would have been
Teaching lessons
Which you were not learning
From anywhere else
You would have found the lessons
Tough and difficult to absorb
As basics and fundamentals
Language used by the faculty
Methodology of teaching
Were quite different
Most of the time unstructured
Unmindful of your moods
The teacher would have kept you
Loaded with lessons difficult to decipher
The classes were far unique and
Very specially different
From any of the formal institution
Which were preparing you
For making a life
The lessons here aimed at
Making you live fully alive and aware of
Absolute realities
You would agree
Learning these never made you tired
And you were enthusiastically looking for
New lessons to come up
By the time
Your child has grown up
And stopped teaching you any further
Your grand child arrives
Now the lessons turn tougher still
Despite all the experiences in life and living
Your learning is quite difficult now
The teacher is in a great hurry
And often keeps changing
The course of lessons
You find new reasons
For things happening around
And you see yourself
In new enthusiasm
Which you feel will help you live
Longer still
With enough energy, strength and skill
In spite of the fact that
Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Color Blind
Everyday seemed to be rainy,
I just woke up to see the gray clouds on my window,
the birds didn't illuminate my mornings with their beautiful melody anymore,
I couldn't see more colors than black gray and white.
One day I woke up after having a colorful dream,
I could see more than gray,
I realized I was a color blind before,
because I noticed that after that rain and clouds,
there has always been a rainbow for me,
so I was color blind not to notice that colorful rainbow before,
but, they say that you can't see a rainbow without rain
My rain was just a wall not to see that beautiful rainbow,
now it has dissappeared,
I'm not a color blind anymore,
Now standing in front of my window,
I can see a bautiful bird red and blue looking for flowers,
Flowers violet and pink standing on the ground,
the beautiful green of trees and plants,
and the splendid blue of my new sky,
one of them I can't name it,
is so unique so special,
I think I'll call it...
Love....
poem by Ana Lia Zaldivar
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When Will It Rain
No one ever sees you cry
You just keep it all inside
In a warm place, where you can hide
When will it rain
When will it rain
I saw you laugh the other day
But all too fast it went away
Now your skys cloudy n gray
Falling mainly on the plain
When will it rain
When will it rain
No water fallls
Down your window pane
And when I look into your eyes
That window to your soul cant lie
Theres water where the well went dry
So how long can there be a drought
When your dams filled with doubt
No place to build your house
Let your cup runneth over and out
I said for crying out loud
When will it rain
When will it rain
No water fallls
Down your window pane
When will it rain
When will it rain
A tear for fear is calling out your name
Rain on me
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not A Lot To Do
Sunday afternoon
Not a lot to do
Think of all
The places I could be
People I could meet
Life so small
I'm watching drops of rain
On my window pane
Empty streets
And no one knocks around
No one goes to town
I'm a-going out
Sick of staying in
Living life
With worries on my mind
Waste away the time
Days that I was born
Closed up all the doors
So restricted
Put my life of shame
Through the window pane
Now I'm blessed
Cause god created Sundays
So we could stay in
And watch the rain fall down
I lay on my bed
I feel all left out
I switch off my head
And I can live on my own
And stay in all day
And watch the rain falling down
I lay on my bed
I feel all left out
And switch off my head
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then And Now
Beneath her window in the fragrant night
I half forget how truant years have flown
Since I looked up to see her chamber-light,
Or catch, perchance, her slender shadow thrown
Upon the casement; but the nodding leaves
Sweep lazily across the unlit pane,
And to and fro beneath the shadowy eaves,
Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain
Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street
When all is still, as if the very trees
Were listening for the coming of her feet
That come no more; yet, lest I weep, the breeze
Sings some forgotten song of those old years
Until my heart grows far too glad for tears.
poem by John McCrae
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Maybe It Shall Rain
Maybe it shall rain
with drops upon my pane
and I shall finger them from inside
and feel the likeness to how I cried.
But rain will stop and tears will too.
It will be hard for me to view
my window pane without touching it
and it will be a chore for me to sit
and wait for raindrops on my pane
without remembering every stain
of drops and tears that came to me
and prove that they still can be
hurtful.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Morning Time
Wind was blowing through the trees
I could hear the rustling of their leaves
The morning sun sneaking through the clouds
Birds singing morning sounds
For i love this time i say
Morning of a new day
I wonder what the day has in store
In the distance i hear the waves crashing the shore
For it is morning time and all is a buzz
From the depths of the oceans
To the skies above
Good morning morning i always say
My your a beautiful day
Maybe you might rain today
Your still beautiful anyway
The sombre breeze that blows around
The birds singing
As i spread my blanket on the ground
So i lay here looking into the sky
Motionless waiting and watching the world pass me by
A few drops of rain speckle my face
I would not give up being here for any place
Sunbeams
There was a beautiful sunbeam shining thru the trees
A beautiful sunbeam that woke up my daughter and me.
The sunbeams woke up the flowers on the ground
The only place this scent could be found.
Living in the city, you only get smoke and smog
And in the mornings you get the fog.
Waking up thou- in all of gods creations
Makes you shiver with anticipation.
The sounds of the birds chirping in the trees
All singing in harmony.
The squirrels searching for food to store
But they had gathered it all up
And there wasn’t any more.
The frogs sitting on the lily pads
With more than enough insects
Keeping them glad.
Then the sunbeam reflected off the flowing brook
Seeing this was all it took.
We jumped up and out of our sleeping bags
We was excited, we was glad.
All year long we waited for this day
To go to the woods, to jump and play.
As we prepared our breakfast
Gods creatures were all coming around
We did not see them, for they made no sounds.
We looked up and they were gathered all around our camp
Watching what we was doing
And their presence was so soothing.
My daughter started throwing bread to all that were around.
And in us, a new friend they had found.
There were squirrels, raccoons, rabbits and a possum or two.
Wondering what we was up to.
Then we looked up into the trees
And there was that magical sunbeam.
It shown its light right where we was camped
The grass is so beautiful when it is damp.
The rays of light playing games on the dew drops
We didn’t want this moment to ever stop.
My daughter said it reminded her of
The fairy tale “ sleeping beauty”
It was the perfect setting - for she is a “cutie”.
After we all had something to eat
We gathered up our backpacks
And left them some treats.
That day we explored all of gods beauties
On the mountain trails.
We knew we’d be back- we would not fail.
This one memory in our minds would forever last
For god had shown us his perfect “cast”.
poem by Louis Rams
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Lightning Strike
The lighting brings back memories.
The thunder shows my anger.
As the rain washes it away.
the birds fly by, I see my dreams.
As they go home. they're stolen from me.
As the rain washes it away.
The pedal filled with rain drops, I know I'm hurt.
As the rain drops roll off, they're like my tears.
As the rain washes it away.
The clouds are like my soul.
They hide the sun, like I hide my feelings.
As the rain washes it away.
As I sit on my porch,
Watching the rain wash things away.
I see that the storms a lot like me.
poem by Fugly Fool
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Like The Rain
I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day theres always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind
All the heavens rivers come to light and I see it all unwind
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane
And when I hear it I just cant believe I never liked the rain
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you Im falling for you now
Just like the rain
When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me
Its as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldnt see
That its always good and when the flood is gone we still remain
Guess Ive known all along I just belong here with you falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now
Just like the rain I have fallen for you
Im falling for you know just like the rain
And when the night falls on our better days
And were looking to the sky
For the winds to take us high above the plains
I know that well find better ways to look into the eye
Of the storms that will be calling
Forever well be falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris in Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Sacred to the Memory of “Unknown”
Oh, the wild black swans fly westward still,
While the sun goes down in glory—
And away o’er lonely plain and hill
Still runs the same old story:
The sheoaks sigh it all day long—
It is safe in the Big Scrub’s keeping—
’Tis the butcher-birds’ and the bell-birds’ song
In the gum where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping—
(It is heard in the chat of the soldier-birds
O’er the grave where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping).
Ah! the Bushmen knew not his name or land,
Or the shame that had sent him here—
But the Bushmen knew by the dead man’s hand
That his past life lay not near.
The law of the land might have watched for him,
Or a sweetheart, wife, or mother;
But they bared their heads, and their eyes were dim,
For he might have been a brother!
(Ah! the death he died brought him near to them,
For he might have been a brother.)
Oh, the wild black swans to the westward fade,
And the sunset burns to ashes,
And three times bright on an eastern range
The light of a big star flashes,
Like a signal sent to a distant strand
Where a dead man’s love sits weeping.
And the night comes grand to the Great Lone Land
O’er the grave where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping,
And the big white stars in their clusters blaze
O’er the Bush where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping.
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Better Life
Hush little baby, don't you cry
Oh-oh, don't you cry
Maybe tomorrow's, a better life
Oh-oh, if you try
Rain is falling all around
Storm came, it brings you down
But if you lose your mind
Weatherman, in his overcoat
Look up in the sky now, the weatherman cry now
Oh-oh, the window pane
Damp in the valley, up in the alley
Oh-oh, it's pouring rain
Rain is falling all around
Storm came, it brings you down
So let your mind roll on
Weatherman, dry's the lonely tears
Early in the morning, while the sun's still yawning
Oh-oh, smiles on you
Maybe today is, a better life
Oh-oh, if we try
Sun is shining all around
It warms your heart and melts the cloud
But if your mind can see
Weatherman, smiles a lonely smile
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Longİ Ng Through The Seasons
ARE WE CHANGİ NG...or the seasons...the last leaves of the trees...tend no to fall from the trees...the last flowers of fall tend not to bloom again.....are we changing or the seasons...are we changing or the seasons...happy tiny fingers caress the whiteness of the falling snow near the window pane...at the other side...bare feet are shivering in the snow...as though match seller girl of andersen has revived again..some people are begging in the wilderness for piece of bread..are we cahanging or the seasons..an old woman her hair bleached by snow opening her hand..for a stand...are we chaNGİ NG OR THE SEASONS....the last flowers of the seasons of the seasons tend not to bloom again...I envy the struggle between the seasons for being and overwhelming....and when every season changes...I long for a new fresh life and world towards goodnes...beauty...peace and brother hood.............
poem by Metin Sahin
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Charley's Death
The wind got up moaning, and blew to a breeze;
I sat with my face closely pressed on the pane;
In a minute or two it began to rain,
And put out the sunset-fire in the trees.
In the clouds' black faces broke out dismay
That ran of a sudden up half the sky,
And the team, cutting ruts in the grass, went by,
Heavy and dripping with sweet wet hay.
Clutching the straws out and knitting his brow,
Walked Arthur beside it, unsteady of limb;
I stood up in wonder, for, following him,
Charley was used to be;--where was he now?
"'Tis like him," I said, "to be working thus late!"--
I said it, but did not believe it was so;
He could not have staid in the meadow to mow,
With rain coming down at so dismal a rate.
"He's bringing the cows home."--I choked at that lie:
They were huddled close by in a tumult and fret,
Some pawing the dry dust up out of the wet,
Some looking afield with their heads lifted high.
O'er the run, o'er the hilltop, and on through the gloom
My vision ran quick as the lightning could dart;
All at once the blood shocked and stood still in my heart;--
He was coming as never till then he had come!
Borne 'twixt our four work-hands, I saw through the fall
Of the rain, and the shadows so thick and so dim,
They had taken their coats off and spread them on him,
And that he was lying out straight,--that was all!
poem by Alice Cary (1858)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shadows In The Rain
Woke up in my clothes again this morning
Dont know exactly where I am
And I should heed my doctors warning
He does the best with me he can
He claims I suffer from delusions
Yet Im so confident Im sane
It cant be no optical illusion
So how can you explain
Shadows in the rain
And if you see us on the corner
And were dancing in the rain
I join my friends there when I see them
Outside my window pane
Shadows in the rain
Shadows in the rain
Shadows in the rain
Shadows in the rain
Woke up in my clothes again this morning
Dont know exactly where I am
I should heed my doctors warning
He does the best with me he can
Shadows in the rain
Shadows in the rain
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I am amazed of the magic that is done
It all started with something insignificant
Like dust,
Sticking on a window pane, and I want it
Dusted off, it is dirt, it is unwanted,
And I do not even know what to do next
About such
Insignificance and feelings of simply
Trying to get rid of dust immediately,
But then, I begin to think about this
Dust, this me, this dust in me,
Some dusts on my feet, some dusts on
My forehead, and some dusts in my ears,
Some dusts in my eyes so obstructive
Of what I really am, and I know what to do next,
The bulb lighting in my head in a sudden,
I touch the dust,
I feel the dust with my fingers, and I am crazy enough
I taste the dust on my window pane,
And I shiver,
I am shaking to its taste, the taste of nothingness
If was from dust that I really come,
I now remember,
It will be to dust that I shall return,
I am now reminded,
And the dust that I used to see
As dirt, as something so insignificant, is now,
A magical patch, glistening, so filled with meaning,
I am nothing but dust; I am biting the dust,
I am very insignificant, in that window pane, at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Still Drops Fall
Still drops fall
while a child cries, while the day dies
and dark is the sky
covered in clouds, darker than night
while for money men do terrible things
and factories produce at any cost,
even the lost of clean air,
the destruction of the ozone layer,
even if it causes seasons to change,
deserts to form and rain to pour down
in great floods
and the echoes of war machinery rings
with super powers raiding
for scarce resources,
with politicians telling lies,
covering their actions
with self inflicted military assaults
and hungry the starving man
is covered with falling drops
far too late for his scorched crops
lightning bolts are echoing
are coming down in blue-white flashes
and a barely solvent commercial farmer looses
his last stock
being killed from electric shock,
hammering rain pours down,
flooding cities and towns
causing havoc to the ordinary man
and the catastrophe is man made
sprouting from the need to own,
sprouting from greed
and still drops fall
while a child cries, while the day dies
and dark is the sky
covered in clouds, darker than night.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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