🌧 The Rain Still Came, But So Did I

A poetic journal entry by Celine Ong

June 6 — Rain Before the Light

Woke before the sun,

the floor still cold,

my steps soft between

the sound of a mother’s chores—

vacuum hum and water splash

echoing through the walls.

The morning air tasted sour,

my stomach turning after breakfast.

Outside, the sky wept—

a heavy, unkind rain

drenched the streets and

soaked my bag like

a quiet weight I carried.

The bus came late.

Someone saw me

and quietly shifted away.

Another made a sound

I didn’t understand,

but I sat beside them anyway—

the seats left no room for pride.

At work, I stayed quiet.

A good morning

found others first—

then landed on me

like a leaf brushing the ground.

I returned it without looking.

My heart, still curled inward.

I forgot the certificate.

Fumbled it into the box.

A small, tired mistake

on a day already heavy.

But still—

I made it.

Not smiling,

not shining.

But I showed up.

And sometimes,

that’s the softest kind of strength.