When it Rains

You can hear the rain on my roof.
She is not a hard rain but she is steady spilling down.
She puts a blanket of soft white noise around my head.
She brings with her a delicate sensation of safety and comfort.
The world around me is absent as she lightly taps on my roof.

The rain returns and cleans everything once again.
She washes away all that has been done since her last visit.
She keeps all the criminals and confused kids with bad ideas at bay.
She keeps me in my box of soft white noise.
The gray and white paint she smears across the sky makes me smile every time.