Rain falls, a rhythm on the pane,
A soft, insistent, whispering strain.
The world outside is washed in grey,
As clouds above, in somber play,
Unleash their watery, cleansing grace,
Upon the parched and thirsty face
Of earth, now breathing, deep and slow,
Renewed by rain's refreshing flow.
The wind sighs through the naked trees,
A melody of rustling leaves.
And in the puddles, mirrored bright,
The world reflects, in shifting light.
A moment's peace, a quiet hush,
As raindrops dance, a gentle rush,
Then silence reigns, a blessed peace,
And weary hearts, find sweet release.