Rain Drops
As the sky exhales its last blush of gold
and slips gently into a velvet, star-stitched night,
the ocean hums its ancient lullaby crashing, yet tender.
A lone toad offers its quiet hymn,
while a wandering breeze
traces invisible fingers along waiting skin.
Above, the clouds surrender,
letting silver raindrops fall like whispered confessions.
They gather their rhythm on banana leaves
a soft percussion of longing and belonging each note a reminder
that love, too, can fall this gently.
This is the kind of love
that does not rush.
That does not tremble in fear.
A love that feels like shelter in a storm,
like warmth wrapped in rain.
Safe.
Sacred.
In tune with every unspoken need.
We sit still inside the moment,
as if time itself leans closer to watch a living portrait,
vivid and luminous,
where even the silence between heartbeats
is loud with devotion.
And in the hush between thunder and tide,
I find you the calm within the rain,
the love that feels like coming home.
A.Chery
