The sky lets go in quiet sighs, As rain beads fall from softened skies. The breeze is thick with moss and pine, A scent that blurs both place and time. Earth turns sweet beneath the storm, Like dampened bark and fields still warm. The flowers lean with heavy heads, Their perfume stirred from garden beds. Each droplet draws the world anew, With hints of stone and morning dew. A breath, a pause, the moment stays- Then fades into the softened haze.