Rain's Whisper

Isolated in the place I call home,
silently basking in the comfort of alone,
feigning interest in my favorite pastime,
but really losing myself in thought.

Rain pours down,
taptaptapping on the tin roof,
washing away my exaggerated miseries,
renewing my hope with its forgiving songs.

The water streaks the windows
with smiling faces and secret messages;
I watch lazily from my cherished place,
wondering if, perhaps, the rain hears my thoughts.

As if in reply, the sky thunders a resounding ‘I do,’
and I laugh brilliantly, thanking the sky for listening,
but mostly for responding,
a welcome sensation for my ever unheard thoughts.