And a sudden gentle kiss of the zephyr untied my loose sleep. The slow glimpses of rain pattering out my patio held my gaze with a flying smile. Little by little dragging down the bed, I sat at the side door with a chair tightly. It is always a wild enchanting amusement to catch the sight of rare silent rain.
It is about the summer evening when the sun does not set soon. The sky heave grey and the flowers bloom bright. Some drops settle on the thin wire of the rusted bridge, other on the rubicund rhapsodic cheeks of gamboling kids. And eventually every drop of rain reaches the ground filling the hollow spaces with the descending decayed prayers.
I'm more amazed seeing how the human despairs hid behind the last door of soaring dreams. Peeking through the balcony, I could see the windows after window, cats seeking rescue and shadows outstretching the same wall.
It was a long time, I found these infrequent silences. But I doubt if I was exactly aware of the hushed palpitating silence amidst the cacophony silences before, or not.
I was from then in love with the quiet and rattling rain arousing no fears and less damage.