Reflections on a Rainy Day

The rain taps soft on the windowpane,
A gentle hymn, a sweet refrain.
Each drop a note, each streak a line,
Etching stories on the glassy shrine.

Beyond the pane, the world is blurred,
A watercolor where time is stirred.
The trees bow low, the streets shine slick,
The sky weeps slow, its moments thick.

The rain brings whispers from years gone by,
Laughter’s echo, a lover’s sigh.
A childhood race through puddled streets,
The patter of steps where joy repeats.

Yet in its song, there’s a solemn tone,
A reminder of days spent alone.
Of goodbyes spoken in gray-lit storms,
And dreams dissolved in fleeting forms.

But rain, it seems, is not just grief—
It cleanses the soul, offers relief.
A curtain drawn, yet light slips through,
A promise held in its silvery hue.

So here I sit, as memories fall,
The rain reflecting them all, them all.
A mirror cast by the heavens’ tears,
Where beauty mingles with our fears.

When the storm departs, and skies are clear,
Its touch remains, its whispers near.
For every drop holds a story untold,
A rainy day turns the heart to gold.

- Khushi Kaul