Rain falls without asking who it will reach, making no distinction between broken roofs and thirsty roots.
In its rhythm, there’s a strange mercy—a reminder that life returns not with fanfare, but with persistence.
The earth drinks in silence, and we remember how to be soft again, how to listen with our whole skin.

Your caption folded into the image like a second layer of meaning.

Using X with airteam. I'm live in Ha Noi. I'm 25 year old

That glow gave your reply its own rhythm.

Still returning to your comment for its comfort.