It's the Rain

“IT falls down like dull silver. Yes, it falls
In ribbons, chains, and miniature crystal-balls.
It makes a sound like pieces of broken glass
Fragile enough to splinter itself on grass.
And it comes from, up above us, a blank gray
Sky that seems to have nothing to give away.
It’s lucid like a tear the eye sees through.
You haven’t an explanation of what it is, have you?”

“My friend, it’s the rain.”

“To my mind, yes, to my thinking, it may be
An experiment they are trying with mercury.
I’ve noticed some significant globules that glide
On the leaf of the Dutchman’s-pipe at the house-side.
Animal life has suffered a grim change:
A cal lopes back, as lank as an eel, from the range.
The river is not the river a man knows:
It’s scribbled over with figure eights and O’s.”

“My friend, it’s the rain.”

“ I know what it is. It must be a miracle.
I’m back at the starting of time. — It’s fantastical.
Here do I stand in the air at the front door
Just as I have for a hundred times before
, And out of the earth, without a doubt, is rising
The very first day of all days with its first surprising.
And I ought to add: a fragrance is through me spread
So sweet that my heart has — practically — stopped dead.”

“My friend, it’s the rain.”