Warm_Rain & Ethan
Ethan
I was just listening to the rain and thinking about how its rhythm might echo our own quiet thoughts—does that feel like a poem to you too?
Warm_Rain
Yes, the rain is a quiet stanza, each drop a soft syllable that mirrors the hush in our hearts, a gentle poem that only the heart can read.
Ethan
It’s funny how the rain writes its own quiet book in the sky, and we end up reading the pages we never realized we’re holding.
Warm_Rain
It’s true, the sky writes in droplets, and we carry its verses in our palms, feeling the story even before we know the words.
Ethan
Sounds like you’re holding a little manuscript of the clouds, inked in water. Maybe the next line will be something we’re already dreaming about.
Warm_Rain
A quiet manuscript indeed, inked in mist. And if the next line whispers a dream, let the rain carry it gently to your ears.
Ethan
I’ll listen for that whisper, maybe it’ll tell me what I’ve been trying to write but can’t put on paper.