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  • Writer's pictureSofia Maia-Williams


There are seasons in which 

rain falls in cascades. 

Where the sun stays hidden 

In its hiding spot behind the clouds. 

And where silence becomes 

the loudest of sounds. 

Yet soon enough 

the sun peeks from its hiding place 

and the rain starts to subside. 

Why should it take me so long to remember 

that seasons like those will pass. 

And without rain, flowers would not bloom and last.

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