In the morning's peace rain descends once more,
A gentle cascade a whispered solace,
Each drop is a tender touch washing away my sorrows,
How long have I yearned for this cleansing spell,
To be baptized anew in my own ebb of emotions?
The rain is a mirror of my tears,
Both falling softly without restraint,
Yet in their descent lies a quiet healing,
As the rain revives the parched earth,
So do tears revive the weary soul.
How similar they are-rain and tears?
Both carriers of renewal and release,
Both bearing witness to the cycles of life,
Questions linger in the misty air,
Will this downpour quench the thirst within,
Or merely stir the dormant ache?
Yet amidst the uncertainty, there is hope,
In the rhythm of the rain in the flow of tears,
A reminder that even in the darkest storms,
There is beauty in the healing,
And strength in the surrender.
© Inaya

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