You may often hear stories about the sun greeting the day,
but what about the sky weeping, washing the light away?

You look around, and somehow,
darkness is all you know.

Even the path beneath your feet feels like betrayal,
slippery enough to make you fall.

And the air feels more piercing,
cold enough to cut through your skin.

But what if the rain is actually saying,
"It is safe for you to be crying."

The rain makes space for me to feel,
the feeling behind the shield.

A quiet moment when I stop pretending,
letting go becomes less frightening.

Hopes return as the morning sun comes,
painting the sky with light and warmth:

"The destiny you've been waiting for
will soon be knocking on your door."

If I must walk under the weeping,
I don't mind, perhaps that’s how I heal.