It is difficult, on a morning like this, to not catch glimpses in the rain. Of shimmery specs of magic, dancing in a gray, silken, sky, woven around the clouds. The clouds, whose linings are lit by the shine of your halo, as you try to hide your light. But not even the clouds can hide, you, entirely. It is difficult to not let your eyes close as you face the heavens as rain pounds down into the surface of your slowly flooding heart; filling your silver drinking cup. That I steal a sip from, every hour, on the hour– a secret remedy from the start. On this rainy day, I wake not in the early dawn but with more comfort and charm …(and you, softly breathing in my dreams). I wake to the crashing waves drowning my every worry out of place. And when I dive into the sky, I ask that you please: do not bring me a shudder or sail, as there is nowhere else I would rather be. The thought of the sun, on my lovely morning, I would shudder to ever think.