In the cradle of the cobalt sky, I am born. A solitary bead, glimmering the secret of the ether. An ephemeral whisper, waiting to coalesce with the world below.
Do I descend as a herald or a wanderer? Each ray of sunshine kisses, urging me to linger, but the pull of the earth calls louder through the symphony of gravity.
Touching the leaf's sheen, I momentarily freeze, contemplating my existence. Do I reflect my own story, or blend with the myriad tales of the forest? Ah, such an enigmatic logic.
When we meet on the cold cobblestone, do we even know? Our essences whisper and weave, crafting rivers and oceans, merging as one.
The journey is boundless. Ever we travel, the monsoon's embrace foretells our reunion, our genesis shrouded in the mysteries of time.
Seek the September Sea or wander among the rivulets. Each drop a universe, every splash a memory lost to the soft breeze.