The Rain That Knows Your Steps
It rains without clouds here,
Drops fall where I walk.
Each step is mirrored carefully,
By moisture that is alive.
The puddles form patterns,
Not random, not chaotic.
They shift subtly beneath my shoes,
Recording intention unseen.
I tried walking faster once,
It kept pace, patient and exact.
Even running left traces,
Shaped like echoes of choice.
Rain does not drench or harm,
It teaches observation instead.
Every step is remembered,
Every pause catalogued quietly.
At night, the rain continues alone,
In places I have never been.
Yet I feel it when I return,
Knowing everything moved in secret.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
I guess I must be a pluviophile. There is something relaxing about lying in bed listening to the rain or watching it rain over the ocean during the day. Nice poem, Marie. It made me think of something my mother used to do -you can't outrun the rain. 😉😉
Rain lovers are pluviophile. I am one. It makes me nostalgic.