An evening rain
taps on my bedroom window,
its staccato rhythm
in tune with deeper forces
palpable beneath the surface
yet painfully out of reach.
I lie awake and count these
empty moments
and pray for summer sun
to come and wash me clean.
But it’s only just a dream
sailing in once again
from some faraway place
I’ve never seen
where angry words are never spoken
and any mistake quickly forgotten,
and the weight of the world
never hangs on shoulders
bowed low by pain
or grief.
Photo by Rahul Pandit from Pexels
