She spoke in raindrops, soft and sudden,
sentences tapping my window at odd hours,
syllables breaking on the zinc roof of my chest.
The words fell without warning,
In hushes, shimmers, pauses.
Some landed gently,
others soaked straight through me,
heavy with things she could not say aloud.
When she was happy, the rain was light
laughing on leaves, skipping puddles,
leaving the air clean and breathable.
When she was hurting, the sky darkened.
Her silence became thunder waiting to happen,
I learned to read the clouds in her eyes.
She never raised her voice.
She didn’t have to.
Grief slid down like drizzle,
love arrived like the first rain after harmattan,
It was relieving and unmistakable,
smelling like home.
Sometimes she stopped speaking altogether,
and the world held its breath.
But even then, I listened.
Because absence has a sound too
when you’ve learned someone’s weather.
She spoke in raindrops, soft and sudden,
and I loved her the way dry earth loves rain,
openly, patient,
willing to be changed.
While exploring poetry prompts on Pinterest, I found myself thinking about my best friend. It’s been a long time since my mind last settled into writing poems, so I’m sure this one came naturally. I wrote it to capture how she used to communicate back then when I felt we were unbreakable. Her communication rarely relied on words. Most times, she spoke through emotions, through her presence, and through silence. And that silence often spoke louder than her words ever could.
“She spoke in raindrops” is a metaphor for softness, unpredictability, and emotional truth. The rain becomes a language of feeling, memory, and loss. All in all, this is just a little reminder that some people do speak to us not through sound, but through impact.
Merry Christmas in advance 🎄
Posted Using INLEO