The Silence Beyond Eden
The rain returns
from the ancient chambers of the sky,
its once-bright radiance
softened by eternity.
Again and again
it journeys toward the earth,
as though bound
by a promise older than memory.
It falls without question,
without longing,
without a murmur of complaint—
quietly entering the lives
of fields, forests, rivers, and men.
Beneath its silver descent,
joy rises
and sorrow disappears;
lives bloom briefly,
then wither into silence.
The rain witnesses all,
yet asks nothing
of the fragile beings below.
It simply gives—
drop after drop,
season after season.
Perhaps this is
the secret written into its nature:
to serve without recognition,
to nourish without reward,
to return without expectation.
And so the rain
fulfils its ancient calling—
a silent offering to creation,
like the rarest of souls
who give themselves to the world
and ask nothing in return.
By Goutam Roy
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