That's what Dogen had to say about something we all experienced here, the moment the universe comes forth, the moment as the myriad things, it could be anything, come and shine on the self. We could also call it Zen cooking, all thrown, self and others, into the big pot. Wondrous alchemy, juicy gravy and yet as clear as pure water. My rain drops are often traffic noises, neighbour television or street shouts.
Steven Heine gives us this very good rendering:
another one in the same vein:Because the mind is free –
Listening to the rain
Dripping from the eaves,
The drops become
One with me.
Drifting pitifully in the whirlwind of birth and death,
As if wandering in a dream,
In the midst of illusion I awaken to the true path;
There is one more matter I must not neglect,
But I need not bother now,
As I listen to the sound of the evening rain
Falling on the roof of my temple retreat
In the deep grass of Fukakusa.