Alphabet of Rain

The moon whispers through the threads of the storm
and sows invisible alphabets on the rain’s strands
every letter sparkles without becoming a word
the heart listens and understands in silence
The drops weave a tapestry of cold signs
minimal alphabets graze the skin of the world
no one names them, but all feel them vibrate
like wind translating what has no voice
When the rain falls silent, maps remain in the air
guiding light steps toward subtle horizons
the moon places the whispers in a book of threads
who listens keeps a language without sound