Paint Me a Poem in Raindrops

You asked me
to paint you a poem in raindrops—
so I stepped outside,
where the Earth was exhaling softly,
and the sky kept its promises
one drop at a time.

 Walk with me a while,
feel the hush settle between us,
listen—how the world softens
when it remembers to breathe.

 The sky lingered in gray-blue layers,
clouds heavy but tender—
a promise held, not threatened.
They draped the world in hush and light,
turning every leaf and puddle into a mirror
for whatever we needed to see.

 The gravel sang under our feet,
a steady hymn for the waiting animals,
and the air carried the scent
of something older than memory—
as if the Earth were whispering thank you
to the clouds that remembered her thirst.

 The rain fell like small kindnesses,
cool against our faces,
delicate but certain—
each drop a note
in a song the world already knew by heart.

 There was no thunder tonight,
only the music of roofs and leaves,
the hush of belonging,
the reminder that renewal doesn’t arrive loudly—
it seeps in,
soft as forgiveness,
real as hope.

 May we leave footprints
that fade softly into the soil,
two wanderers moving through quiet grace,
our reflections mingling in the rain.

With Grace & Ink,
Mai