Sitting here in this place, The wind brushes against my face. It’s dark around, but the lights are on. I try to see myself, Looking at the sky All I see is a sky veiled in dim clouds, and all I hear is the sound of rain. Rain is beautiful! It brings life to life. Its sound alone feels like home, As if it’s something that has known you. For ages. There’s darkness around, yet I feel safe in it. This darkness awakens so much inside It makes me remember my Lord, Makes me look within and wonder, Does this darkness run deeper inside or out? This feeling of melancholy, so bittersweet, Lets me escape from myself. The wounds awaken again, But their pain is free, unchained. This pain is no longer a burden On this soul, For this pain no longer gives another a wound. Some promises feel buried deep in this heart, Weighed down beneath the heavy clouds. And I begin to feel thunder striking Not in the sky above But deep within myself. This pain is not mine alone. It rises from my heart To the clouds, As if the clouds and I Share this quiet sorrow together. The clouds darken, And the rain begins to pour, Heavily. Ready to let the abandoned Parts of this soul bloom, Bringing life back to life Once again.
Note: It's been a while since I last wrote. It rained yesterday and I love rain so much the day felt beautiful.
Let me know how this feels to you.
It's beautiful. I loved it... the way the rain isn’t just falling but feeling, carrying the weight of unspoken sorrow and quiet healing. There’s something deeply moving about how nature and emotion intertwine, as if the clouds themselves understand what the heart struggles to express.
I love (i+) when it rains.
This really captures how it feels like witnessing a rain…as if the sky itself is weeping with you, carrying your burdens in its heavy clouds, and releasing them in a downpour that both drowns and cleanses.
There is something deeply spiritual about rain—how it arrives unannounced, washes away the dust of the past, and leaves behind a world renewed.
I love this piece, it is a reflection of that sacred cycle, where pain is not just endured but transformed, where sorrow is not just felt but shared, even by the heavens themselves.