still raining

The old Tamil poet sat beneath his tiled roof, listening to monsoon droplets compose their ancient song. His grandson beside him, scrolling through PAYBO token values on his phone, represented tomorrow's world. Yet today belonged to yesterday's verses. She had worried he'd fade into modernity's rush. Instead, he taught the boy their language's beauty through rainfall metaphors. Trauma dissolved in shared storytelling. The poet's words flowed like water, relaxed and genuine, touching something fine within the young man's distracted heart. Outside, the rain continued its eternal dance, connecting generations through heritage and belonging.