The Scent of First Rain – A Letter from the Heart
The Scent of First Rain – A Letter from the Heart
One lazy afternoon, I sat by the window.
And then it came—
The scent of the first rain.
Wet soil, rustling leaves, fading dust…
It felt like opening an old unnamed letter,
its folds hiding whispers of a forgotten first love.
Raindrops tapped on the roof.
And my heart sat still, listening.
Maybe that was the day love first arrived—
in the silent pause after a glance.
I don’t remember their name anymore,
maybe not even the face.
But the first wait—
of sitting by the window, watching the rain— that stays with me.
We all encounter this scent once,
perhaps on an unfamiliar evening,
in a forgotten diary page,
or inside a long-lost photograph.
The rain may dry.
The city gets busy again.
But the scent—
It stays on the floor of memory,
like a love unspoken,
quiet but still colorful.
Comments
Post a Comment