Raindrops keep falling

In the spaces of my mind

Each drop a small insistence

Cruel, while trying to be kind

On glass or leaves or skin

It slows the day to a pause

Giving substance to scattering thoughts

With weight that settles with cause

Worries and memories rise and then fade

As my mind begins to come apart

And listening close to the rhythm

I realise I still have a heart

I stop counting the drops

Though the rain is without end

Its beat keeps time with my own

As the fractures begin to mend

Here's my entry for the Poetry profile Versification 2026 contest, day 16, based on the Rhythm prompt: 'The rhythm of the rain lets you think, counting the droplets. 1, 2, 3. How did it make you feel.'