I couldn’t see them at first.

they were hidden by gushes of veils.

Covered by a cloak of mist dispersed

from the wet warm rain’s exhales.


I opened the window to touch

the rain that pierced through the skies.

But my skin was tickled insomuch,

by blankets of sparkles, not cries.


Do not mistaken this sky as bereaved,

for my fingers were wrapped by warm shrouds.

Upon its departure it faithfully revealed,

blue skies with puffs of white clouds.