The Rain's Gentle Rhyme

The sky has turned a softened grey,

And put its bright designs away.

It speaks now in a different tongue,

A lullaby that's softly sung.

A pitter-patter on the leaves,

A gentle sigh the gutter heaves.

A steady drum, a constant beat,

That makes the world feel slow and sweet.

Each drop that hits the windowpane,

Draws a map to start again.

It washes dust from off the street,

And makes the air feel clean and sweet.

The flowers lift their thirsty faces,

To these liquid, cool embraces.

The earth drinks deep, the worms all creep,

While all the world is half-asleep.

So let the sun hide for a while,

And let the clouds break out in smile.

For in the rain, a peace is found,

A quieter, more thoughtful sound.

It tells you it's alright to rest,

To simply be, and be your best.

To watch the water weave and fall,

And not feel you must do it all.

The rain's a friend who understands,

And comes with gentle, healing hands.