When the Sky Learned to Fall

[Verse 1] Morning rose in a hush I’d never tasted, A softness perched on every branch and breath. The world held still, as if afraid to wake me, As pale white petals drifted from the heavens’ depth. [Verse 2] I reached out— not to touch, but to understand— how something colder than silence could land so gently in my open hand. It melted like a secret whispered too close, gone before I could hold its meaning. [Chorus] And the sky learned to fall today, not in storms, but in quiet confessions. Each flake a tiny lantern, glowing for a heartbeat before surrendering to the earth. I stood there, a stranger to winter, letting wonder rewrite my breath. [Verse 3] Footsteps bloomed behind me, soft as the memory of a lullaby. The air tasted of beginnings— clean, unhurried, like the world had been washed in a language I’d never heard but somehow understood. [Bridge] For a moment, I wasn’t who I had been— I was simply a soul catching pieces of the sky, learning that beauty sometimes arrives quietly, asking nothing but your stillness. [Final Chorus] And the sky learned to fall today, turning the ordinary into a hymn. I let the cold kiss my eyelashes, let the white rewrite the ground, let myself believe that even the unfamiliar can feel like home if you stand still long enough to listen.