The Art of Rain on a Window

The first notes fall soft, tentative

like a pianist testing the keys of twilight

whispers of hope peeking out beneath the heavy blanket of silence

their rhythms weaving a hymn for the waiting Earth, hushed and
expectant

a symphony awakens on the glass

each drop, its own rhythm, its own voice

the window becomes a canvas for sound

where the rain paints stories in translucent

strokes the canvas a mass of browns, purples, greens, and blues

the drops begin

to slow, blanketed by silence

each drop creates its own color

each peeking out, trying to be seen