Beneath the Rain

Rain taps soft on window glass,

A fleeting hymn from skies that pass.

Each drop a story, old and true,

Of days we lost and moments new.

It paints the streets in silver hues,

Wakes dreams long buried, worn with use.

Puddles mirror the heart's unrest,

Reflecting pain we once suppressed.

Yet in its fall, there lies a grace—

A quiet cleanse, a soft embrace.

It hides the tears we dare not show,

And speaks in ways we’ll never know.

It finds the cracks within the soul,

And mends them whole without control.

A rhythm for the hearts that break,

A song for those who lie awake.

Though storms may rage and skies turn grey,

The rain still guides us on our way.

For in each drop, life dares to try—

To bloom, to heal, to reach the sky.