Maybe I shouldn't do Lit homework before bed.

Try listening to the rain. What is it saying?

Recently, I've realized the steady rhythm of the rain is my favourite lullaby. Slipping under the blankets on a stormy night, I peacefully slide the window open, inviting the subtle sound to pour into my room. The draft of crisp air whispers bed time stories of life and death, poverty and riches as well as loneliness and love. Affectionately receiving our sleepy souls, darkness restlessly cradles the world into its expected slumber. My blanket constantly comforts me; silently reassuring me that, at the end of the day, I will have all that I need. At every toss or turn my loyal stuffed animals serenade me with songs passed on through generations. Brilliance lies within the melody of the rain. It unites everything into a brilliant symphony and a humble poem. After letting the rain massage my memory, I always detect an upturned rainbow stretched across my cheek.