Nothing, but rain
Today the sky was throwing hands,
wind slapping cheeks, cold in command,
rain needling coats, streets soaked through,
Outside? Everything is Blue.
Out there, it’s misery-core and thunderstruck,
frozen fingers, wet socks, bad luck.
Rain is rude when it hits your skin,
winter laughing like: you thought you’d win?
But inside…
oh inside is where the magic hides.
Blankets piled like soft defenses,
tea steaming up all my senses,
a screen flickers, cookies wait,
time slows down, procrastinates.
Rain taps poems on the glass,
And it whispers: relax, don’t move fast,
It says: stay. Breathe. Do nothing at all.
Let the world drip. Let deadlines fall.
Because a sunny day demands a plan,
Blue skies guilt-trip you into being a fan.
But Grey?
Grey forgives you for ghosting the day.
Cold outside makes the warmth feel loud,
like comfort wrapped in a fluffy cloud.
The contrast hits; perfection, aligned:
chaos outside, peace inside and confined.
Nothing happened. And yet,
everything did.
Rain showed up and that was enough,
turned a boring day into gentle stuff.
No memories made, no places been,
just me, my blanket, and the sound of rain.
And somehow that’s the best kind of day,
when the weather says:
it’s okay to fade away.
Valentina ROSSI SCHMID 103