In the quiet of night, when shadows grow long,
Comes the soft patter of rain's gentle song.
It taps on my windows with fingers so light,
Whispering secrets of the world outside.

Each drop a story, a memory to tell,
Of distant places where dreams often dwell.
They dance on the roof, a rhythmic refrain,
Echoes of laughter, echoes of pain.

In the corners they gather, like tears in the night,
Reflecting the stars with their shimmering light.
They cleanse the air, wash away the dust,
Leaving behind a sense of quiet trust.

The rain in my house, a lullaby so sweet,
Bringing solace to hearts that often retreat.
A reminder of nature's gentle grace,
As it paints the world with each liquid embrace.

So let it rain, let it pour without cease,
For in its embrace, my soul finds peace.
The rain in my house, a melody profound,
Connecting me to the earth's heartbeat's sound.
© Pradip Hogade