The markets sit like a sky before rain,
Heavy with signals no one can ignore.
Voices from distant towers whisper caution,
And even the bold begin to step softly.

Interest rises like a guarded tide,
Pulling risk back from the shore.
The dollar stands tall like a lighthouse,
Drawing ships in, while others drift farther away.

Across the horizon, engines slow,
Not broken, just uncertain of the road ahead.
And so the world waits, quietly invested in tomorrow,
Watching the winds, before it dares to move again.