Shadows, Firelight, and Silver Rain

The world retreats in shades of gray,
The frantic pulse of light has fled,
And all the cares that filled the day
Have found a place to rest their head.


A rhythmic tap upon the pane,
A liquid lace against the glass,
The steady, soft, and silver rain
Watches the velvet shadows pass.


A symphony in minor key,
It drums a slow and hollow beat,
Dissolving in the mystery
Of puddles mirrored on the street.


The ticking clock begins to tire,
The house is held in cool repose,
Beside the embers of the fire,
The quiet world of dreaming grows.


For in this mist and steady fall,
The heavy thoughts begin to cease,
There is no answer, need, or call
Only the rain, and perfect peace.