Philosophy Of Life

Witnessing Rain

This is a small piece of pure spontaneity. There’s no rhyme, no alliteration. It’s just a couple of verses that came out when I was chilling at the balcony, watching the rain. Things like this resonate with me more than the poems with rhymes and refrains. What about you?

Photo by Anna King. Source: unsplash.com

It’s raining outside. In phases.

Fast? Slow? It’s a rhythm I can’t tap to.

It smells nice. Like gentle familiar novelty.

Smell with my eyes. I smell colour.

Like colour on a fresh painting.

It’s preaching into the air.

It sounds like love.

If there is silence in between, that’s all I feel.

My arms are feeling the drops that I only see.

I’m under construction, a puzzle.

Oh, Lord, your creation is in awe of itself.

Hope you enjoyed this. Thank you so much for reading and have a blast just existing!