The tenderness of our mother singing a song, the music of a carillon soothing us gently, the voice of the sea by a shell on our ear, telling us about the reign of Poseidon ... Or ... The rain ...
The sound of rain conjures up thoughts of something ancient, living beings who tended to run away, without even so much understanding why, looking for shelter in a cave ... just simply because being wet made them feel so cold. So it was that, once safe, the sound of rain began to be something sounding so good, because hearing it in the background, being indoor, meant not feel cold.
How many times I would have liked to feel my heart protected and listen to the sound of rain lulling me from outside ... But no ... It's raining in my heart. A simple refuge would be enough, basic, no frills, just a little protection, just to warm up a bit. I wouldn’t mind to sleep on wooden planks, for having that.
Maybe sometimes I have so much fear that the rain can reach me, so I put trays to hold the drops, always, just to be safe, even in good weather.
I'm feeling a bit cold ... It's raining in my heart ..