Rains Rhythm

The sky wears gray like a thoughtful muse, Soft tears of heaven begin to bruise. A rhythmic tap on windowpanes, The hush and hum of morning rains. The trees bow low in wet embrace, While puddles mirror heaven’s face. A steaming cup, a moment still, A heart at peace, a soul to fill. Oh, let it rain, and cleanse the air, A whispered prayer in cool despair. For even storms, in their own way, Can wash the night and bless the day. Celebritysage. writing of the Godly 🖊 📕