In the stillness of the night, the rain begins to fall,
Soft whispers on the window, a gentle, soothing call.
Each drop a silent messenger, a tale from clouds above,
Bringing dreams of distant lands, and stories of pure love.

The earth drinks in the quiet, the parched soil takes its fill,
The flowers lift their weary heads, the world begins to thrill.
The rhythm of the rain, a lullaby so sweet,
It dances on the rooftops, tapping out its beat.

Beneath the silver raindrops, the streets begin to gleam,
Reflections of the city lights, like fragments of a dream.
The night is painted with a brush of liquid light,
An artist’s canvas brought to life, in the heart of the night.

And as the dawn approaches, the rain begins to fade,
Leaving behind a world renewed, in light and shadow played.
The whispers of the rain, a memory so dear,
A symphony of nature’s grace, still lingering near.