I awake to the gloom of a cloud covered sky,
There’s a dampness that floats with the air.
A stillness and peace has enveloped my world,
And I don’t see a soul anywhere.
You can already smell the rain on the wind,
And a gentle pitter patter has begun.
Even Nature retreats from the impending storm,
As the darkness surpasses the sun.
It feels like a spell has been cast over me,
As sleep overtakes me again.
I float on a dream filled with water and clouds,
Gently rocked by the rhythm of the rain.
But then I’m awakened by the echo of drops,
Growing larger and angrier now.
I watch as the trees bend beneath the wet weight,
And the leaves become glued to the ground.
In the puddles that grow from the unyielding stream,
You can see each drop ripple and plop.
And the tempo, like music, rises and falls,
Speeding up and then slowing to stop.
How I love that grand smell of clear water and earth,
And that sound that can calm any woe.
And the sight of the streets, abandoned and bleak,
While people sit cozy at home.
Though my moods melancholy and wistful,
It’s a feeling, familiar and safe.
It’s as if the grey rain grants permission for gloom,
Creating the right time and place.
I sit by the window with a good book in hand,
While drops splash against the wet pane.
A day to escape while the world is renewed,
By the wonder of the fresh, soaking rain.
As the dark of the evening begins to move in,
And the rain has now settled to mist.
The still swirling puddles and the soggy brown earth,
Give proof that the world has been kissed.
Perhaps it’s some need to withdraw and be sad,
And to let the world just float away.
But for me there is no better feeling,
Than being home on a dark, rainy day.