Thunder roaring; a light drizzle
pouring down upon the hazy landscape.
Droplets splattering over the archaic architecture.
Tufts of clouds, almost embracing the ground.
In the distance faded silhouettes.
Of trees and buildings, or merely tricks of light.
A damp morning, the day too lazy to rise.
Hidden under the covers, warmly tucked in.
All my surroundings, they feel they are alive.
Holding their breaths when I dart my eyes around.
Whispers behind my back, faint mumblings.
Did I hear them, for there was nothing in plain sight.
Tiny timid creatures, fond of the rains.
Chirping, croaking, peeking out of their burrows.
They leap out, mischievous, playing in the open.
Still fidgety, but ready to make exceptions.
A gripping tranquility emanating in the air.
Asking for a moment to lend. To pause,
to experience, admire, and examine,
something ethereal, humbling.
