Rain on Marble
By Dave
Leaves barely moving, anticipating.
The sky, a canvas of grays,
Holds its breath.
Holds its breath.
The first drop, unnoticed,
Another, cool and gentle,
Creating dark circles on the ground,
Each one promising more to come.
Another, cool and gentle,
Creating dark circles on the ground,
Each one promising more to come.
The scent of rain and fresh coffee,
Steam rising from a mug held close,
Warm and comforting against the cooling air,
Mix with the aromatic tendrils from my pipe.
Steam rising from a mug held close,
Warm and comforting against the cooling air,
Mix with the aromatic tendrils from my pipe.
In the garden, the roses respond,
Their fragrance mingling,
A cacophony of scents.
Their fragrance mingling,
A cacophony of scents.
The light shifts,
Softening the day,
Colors muted, shadows blurred.
Softening the day,
Colors muted, shadows blurred.
Rain begins to fall steadily,
Each drop a quiet percussion,
A soothing rhythm that fills the silence.
Each drop a quiet percussion,
A soothing rhythm that fills the silence.
Rain through the leaves,
Whispering rustle,
Tapping on the walkway,
Creating a gentle pattern.
Whispering rustle,
Tapping on the walkway,
Creating a gentle pattern.
The ground darkens, absorbing the gift,
Pavement glistens with a thin sheen,
Plants breathe, drinking deeply.
Pavement glistens with a thin sheen,
Plants breathe, drinking deeply.
Everything slows,
The day transforming under a veil,
Calm permeates,
An invitation,
To witness, to feel, to breathe.
The day transforming under a veil,
Calm permeates,
An invitation,
To witness, to feel, to breathe.