Tiny dancers, light on toes,
tap a melody on my window.
The sky weeps, tears like crystal beads,
washing the world with whispered secrets.
Each drop, a universe in slow descent,
reflecting clouds and distant light.
A fleeting world held in a fragile sphere,
then shattered against the pane, so bright.
The rhythm quickens, a drumbeat loud,
on glass now blurred, a frosted shroud.
Rain lashes down, a frantic chase,
erasing streets and leaving space.
But wait, a pause, a hush descends,
the sun peeks through, a promise sends.
A single drop, hangs on, then sighs,
arcs a rainbow in a tearful sky.
The dancers rest, the sun takes hold,
a world reborn, the story told.
Raindrops on glass, a fleeting show,
whisper memories as they softly go.
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