Raindrops on my window
tracing your lows with warmth,
the clouds are flakes of cotton
like a pillow of feathers under sun rays.
it is a swirl of nights and days, that paints nature in a contrast,
the intricacies so beautiful, scattered across the sky spread vast.
The art of nature is uncountable, unlike our twos and threes,
so step outside in a garden, and seek your count that speaks 'free'.