Under the Eaves

The rain came hard, a steady sheet,
A rhythm drumming on the street.
The clouds hung low, their gray embrace
Pressed heavy o’er the empty space.
I found a nook beneath the trees,
A bough stretched wide like calming seas,
Its leaves a roof, its bark a wall,
A quiet haven through it all.

There in the stillness, damp yet warm,
I watched the dance of wind and storm.
The world dissolved in silver streams,
Each droplet spun from cloud-bound dreams.
And though the chill crept through the air,
I felt no loss, no great despair.
For shelter’s not a place but peace,
A pause where storms and worries cease.