Under a sky cloaked in soft gray,
the rain falls in quiet whispers,
tapping on leaves, thrusting them down
pooling in quiet corners,
weaving songs only stillness can hear.

I sit by the window,
watching the world blur at its edges,
each drop shaped like lens
that bends light and time.

And yet, somewhere deep within,
I wait.
Not for the rain to stop,
but for the light
to thread its way
through the heavy clouds.

I imagine it now—
a soft, golden breath
amongst the blue
warming the earth,
awakening hidden colors
that slept beneath the gray.

Until then, I let the rain be,
let it paint the world in quiet tones
As the sky moans
And when sun comes,
Not if
For even the longest rains
must yield to the sky’s
golden embrace
make space for this heart
to find solace