The velvet curtain of the night unfolds,
In hues of indigo and dusty golds.
The Moon emerges like a silver ghost,
A silent guardian of the heavenly coast.
Around her throne, the Stars begin to wake,
Like diamonds scattered on a frozen lake.
Each tiny spark, a story from the past,
In a cosmic ocean, deep and wide and vast.
But then the Clouds arrive with heavy tread,
To drape a charcoal blanket overhead.
They drift like giants, soft and slow and gray,
To hide the silver of the moon away.
The air grows heavy with a scent so sweet,
As sky and earth in shadows start to meet.
Then comes the Rain, a soft and rhythmic beat,
To wash the dust from every lonely street.
The moon is hidden, and the stars are veiled,
As if the heavens' golden light has failed.
But in the pitter-patter on the pane,
The heart finds music in the falling rain.
Four souls of nature, woven in the dark,
From the distant planet to the smallest spark.
A symphony of silence and of sound,
Where peace and healing are so purely found.