A Trusted Friend

The rain knows all my secrets.
Each drop, a shedded tear.
Engulfed in a pool of my own affliction.
Silence beckons me to the shore,
of memories locked deep inside the corridors of my brain.

The rain knows all my secrets.
It trickles and crawls like grief on my skin,
we can’t run from the past or the bloodline that we share 

The rain knows all my secrets.
It collects and records each silent prayer to my Rabb,
with my trusted friend, all my sorrows are kept secure. 

The rain knows all my secrets.
I never know when it will pour 
or when it will pass.

The rain has a funny way of bringing back unwanted illusions of the past.
The past, of which one tries so hard to forget.
Yet, in the moment it is only the rain that sheds me bare.

As I whisper my silent prayers to my Rab; the rain collects each one and records it.
Like a trusted friend, the rain gives us space to share our sorrows and keeps it safe and secure.
No one knows what time it will pour and stop but just like how fast it falls from the sky, soon it will pass too.