saturday, 6 am

i wake up to the gentle lullaby

of pitter pattering rain.

curled under my soft covers,

without a single care for the world.

the world, the world is quiet.

all except for the train echoing,

the baby birds chirping.

the rain is my friend.

each drop has her own story.

o, how i find so much comfort

in hiding in the pleasant warmth and darkness,

listening to the euphonious rain.