This morning is a shade between bright and mellow; tongue in cheek is this day's mood.
Sun hides behind the clouds but it's not dark. Intermittently it drizzles then stops like the journeys endlessly walked between doubts and hopes.
Crickets and frogs perceive restive air. Unanimously they make music for a rain call.
This moment is one of realization -- the night has ended without a rain but morning is still expectant. Is it remnant of the night's desperation? Or a rain's forecast?
