Updated: Mar 6
It’s raining outside,
Raining after an eternity;
Unlike other days, today is different.
Oh! What a lie?
Every day is different.
The clouds has descended
Upon our small hamlet,
Of one street, one well,
Few lampposts and open moor.
I can’t see, beyond the dark clouds,
Where the mountain meets the sky,
Yet I can smell
The rain has brought,
Of the meadows and pastures of those highlands;
Where my sheep are free souls.
The night is cold and windy;
And leaves are rustling in symphony
Of nature’s orchestra.
The song is beautiful, the moment is wonderful;
Few notes are scary; it might be the thunders,
But it’s raining and it’s blissful.