we wake up in sun-drenched rooms.
we sleep to faint, nocturnal tunes.
and we roll in glorious as the clouds
with a lullaby of sound -

the sound of the rain.

we wait in hope of brighter days,
as we watch the tree limbs sway,
and we're onto whatever hope we can find
that sleep under these blue-washed skies.

we fall soft like autumn leaves.
we're swept on by a tranquil breeze,
we land upon the puddles and streams,
and drift away to bigger seas

to the sound of the rain.