I Miss My Rain
I miss the sound of the rain tapping on my face.
How it touches and rolls down my cheeks.
I wonder when the rain would come.
I wonder if it still remembers my name and all my secrets.
To the window pane I see the bright yellow sun.
But not the dark clouds that carries my secrets.
I wonder when you’ll come again my rain?
So I can whisper my greatest and deepest secrets to you.
Come now, rain.
And fill me in.
