The Last Rain Fell Softly

By [Hazrat ali]

The last rain fell softly, a whispered goodbye,

A gentle sigh from a gray, grieving sky.

No thunder to roar, no lightning to cry,

Just quiet tears falling, as earth learned to dry.

It kissed the cracked soil with fragile grace,

A fleeting touch on a parched, longing face.

Leaves trembled faintly in the hollowed breeze,

Searching for solace among empty trees.

The rivers, once wild, now whispered in shame,

Their beds lay bare, devoid of the rain.

Birdsong grew faint, wings heavy and slow,

In a world where the waters forgot how to flow.

The clouds drifted far, beyond reach or plea,

Leaving the land locked in drought’s cold decree.

The last rain fell softly, then vanished away,

A memory fading with the dying day.

But somewhere beneath the dry, cracked skin,

Hope lingers softly, waiting to begin.

For even the earth, in silence and pain,

Dreams of the moment when rain falls again