RAIN

A poem that explores restlessness met by nature’s persistence.

I lie still, thoughts twisting, refusing to settle,  
counting the spaces between heartbeats,  
night stretching wide, restless around me.  

Outside, rain starts—soft, steady,  
a quiet rhythm pressing on the window,  
each drop asking me to let go.  

In dreams, I walk into sheets of rain,  
water folding over skin,  
earth damp beneath bare feet,  
breath mixing with mist,  
a world rinsed clean and new.  

I awake, carrying echoes of dreams,  
rain brushing leaves gently,  
a calm pulse pulling sleep back,  
soft enough to hold my restless mind,  
a steady hum for a night that finally eased.  

Rain 
	keeps 
		falling,  
pulling quiet threads through dawn’s edges,  
each drop tracing the shape of waking.  

I rise slowly,
shadows of wet earth and cool air still with me,  
rain’s memory lingering on my skin,  
a secret held close.  

Light seeps in, pale, soft,  
clouds low and heavy,  
blurring the sharp edges of morning.  

Outside, rain hums a steady rhythm,  
a lullaby stretching past sleep; 
a promise of calm,  
moments held gently between breaths.

Author’s Note

This poem came from those nights when sleep just won’t come, and the mind won’t stop racing. I wanted to capture that restless feeling; how the dark feels too wide, thoughts tangled and loud.

Rain often shows up in those moments for me—not as a fix, but as something steady, a quiet presence that shifts the noise just enough. It’s less about falling asleep and more about finding a small peace inside the chaos.

The poem tries to hold that fragile space between wakefulness and rest, where the world feels both heavy and soft. The rain isn’t just weather here; it’s a kind of gentle company, a rhythm to lean into when the night stretches on too long.

Upcoming…

• A prose poem about what he sees:

  FROM THE SECOND SHELF, 06 June 2026

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