moistened morning

a moist morning
seems as if
the sky
cried whole night
yesterday
but only hesitatingly,
sparingly
lest the reservoir of tears
empties
and drought occurs
now i know
the seeds of surprise
silent cries
will not be dormant too long
they will germinate
and bring, may be smiles
or just a realization
that clouds are unable to bear
the expectations, embedded in a wait