There is a place inside you No map has ever traced, a quiet room behind the ribs where light forgets to stay. No one sees it when you smile, No one hears it when you speak. It moves beneath your laughter like a river running deep. It is yours alone to carry, not carved for other hands, a language made of silence Only your soul understands. Some mornings it is heavier, a stone you cannot name, And still you rise and wear your life as if it were the same. But pain, it does not leave you when ignored or pushed away, it waits within the folds of time, it learns you day by day. It is not your enemy, though it cuts without a sound; it is the truth you buried but still lives underground. And yes, there are nights it breaks you, when endurance feels too wide, when even breath feels borrowed And there is nowhere left to hide. Yet somehow you continue, not because you do not fall, but because within the breaking You still answer life’s call. You learn to walk beside it, not beneath it, not above...
The rain arrives like whispered grace,
A gentle hymn from sky to ground.
It blesses dust with living touch,
Where silence once was all around.
Leaves lift their faces to the fall,
Emerald veins begin to shine.
Each droplet writes a promise soft
Along the edges of the vine.
Roots awaken deep below,
Drinking hope in quiet trust.
Seeds remember who they are,
And rise from darkness, clay, and dust.
The earth exhales, relieved, renewed,
Cracked soil healed by silver streams.
Rain stitches life into the land,
Mending hunger’s broken seams.
For farmers, rain is more than water,
It is tomorrow’s bread and prayer.
It decides the weight of the harvest,
The difference between despair and care.
They watch the sky with folded hands,
Reading clouds like sacred text.
Each rainfall answers patient work,
And shapes what seasons offer next.
Where rain falls true, the world stands strong—
Green speaks louder than decay.
A blessing poured without condition,
Teaching life how to stay.
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
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