When tempest subsides
in the barren moors,
silence swells,
filling the void.

Tears fall,
carving paths on skin,
yet bring a moist clarity,
mending broken places.

The grass whispers
secrets of rebirth,
each drop a promise,
each tear a renewal.

The horizon stretches,
endless, with hope
seeping into the soil.

In this moment,
life whispers softly
in the language of
rain and silence.