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• https://brainly.in/textbook-solutions/q-does-rain-water-reach-clouds-rivers-oceans

Rain is water droplets that, as a consequence of evaporation, are condensed. 

The creation of clouds happens during the water cycle.

• Often, rain is called precipitation. 
• Water from various bodies of water is absorbed, a significant volume of which vaporizes and enters the atmospheric air.
• Water is also evaporated by many other biological processes.
• Thus, this hot air containing water molecules increases above the level of the ground and cools after reaching an acceptable height.
• This process is called condensation as water vapor transforms into droplets of water as cooling.
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• Substances like dust and other particles suspended in the air promote it, which speeds up the process and forms the nucleus for these droplets.
• The clusters of such droplets lock together to form immense masses of water that appear to us like clouds. 
• When they grow big and strong, they fall like rain on the earth.
• Therefore, that's precipitation.
•  Such rainfall, if the temperature is low, is often in the form of snow, hail, or sleet.
• When it rains, water fills rivers, streams, etc.
•  Rainfall water flows down like tiny streams.
• These tiny streams come together to create larger streams. 
• The rivers join this larger stream.
• The rivers go down to the oceans and seas.
•  Any of this rainwater is seeping into the ground and becoming groundwater.
• Evaporation of water due to high temperatures and clouds from ponds, lakes, rivers, seas, etc.
• With the assistance of winds, these clouds now travel and get heavier according to the time and continuous evaporation.
• As the clouds lose their tendency to retain water, they rain over the surface of the earth, some how-to enter seas, and oceans with rivers and rivers.
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• The rain is raining all around,
  It falls on field and tree,
  It rains on the umbrellas here,
  And on the ships at sea. R.L.STEVENSON
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• https://allpoetry.com/poem/15448188-How-Beautiful-is-the-Rain---by-Henry-Wadsworth-Longfellow--1807-1-by-Nomadic-One
• How beautiful is the rain!
  After the dust and heat,
  In the broad and fiery street,
  In the narrow lane,
  How beautiful is the rain!
  
  How it clatters along the roofs,
  Like the tramp of hoofs
  How it gushes and struggles out
  From the throat of the overflowing spout!
  
  Across the window-pane
  It pours and pours;
  And swift and wide,
  With a muddy tide,
  Like a river down the gutter roars
  The rain, the welcome rain!
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  The sick man from his chamber looks
  At the twisted brooks;
  He can feel the cool
  Breath of each little pool;
  His fevered brain
  Grows calm again,
  And he breathes a blessing on the rain.
  
  From the neighboring school
  Come the boys,
  With more than their wonted noise
  And commotion;
  And down the wet streets
  Sail their mimic fleets,
  Till the treacherous pool
  Ingulfs them in its whirling
  And turbulent ocean.
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  In the country, on every side,
  Where far and wide,
  Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide,
  Stretches the plain,
  To the dry grass and the drier grain
  How welcome is the rain!
  
  In the furrowed land
  The toilsome and patient oxen stand;
  Lifting the yoke encumbered head,
  With their dilated nostrils spread,
  They silently inhale
  The clover-scented gale,
  And the vapors that arise
  From the well-watered and smoking soil.
  
  For this rest in the furrow after toil
  Their large and lustrous eyes
  Seem to thank the Lord,
  More than man's spoken word.
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  Near at hand,
  From under the sheltering trees,
  The farmer sees
  His pastures, and his fields of grain,
  As they bend their tops
  To the numberless beating drops
  Of the incessant rain.
  
  He counts it as no sin
  That he sees therein
  Only his own thrift and gain.
  These, and far more than these,
  The Poet sees!
  
  He can behold
  Aquarius old
  Walking the fenceless fields of air;
  And from each ample fold
  Of the clouds about him rolled
  Scattering everywhere
  The showery rain,
  As the farmer scatters his grain.
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  He can behold
  Things manifold
  That have not yet been wholly told,--
  Have not been wholly sung nor said.
  For his thought, that never stops,
  Follows the water-drops
  Down to the graves of the dead,
  Down through chasms and gulfs profound,
  To the dreary fountain-head
  Of lakes and rivers under ground;
  And sees them, when the rain is done,
  On the bridge of colors seven
  Climbing up once more to heaven,
  Opposite the setting sun.
  
  Thus the Seer,
  With vision clear,
  Sees forms appear and disappear,
  In the perpetual round of strange,
  Mysterious change
  From birth to death, from death to birth,
  From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth;
  Till glimpses more sublime
  Of things, unseen before,
  Unto his wondering eyes reveal
  The Universe, as an immeasurable wheel
  Turning forevermore
  In the rapid and rushing river of Time.
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• RAIN DROPS- STREAMS- RIVULETS- RIVER- LAKES-TRIBUTARIES, - DAMS- CANALS- DELTA
• SEA- OCEAN- EVAPORATION- PRECIPITATION
• CONDENSATION-
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