Ancient Silent Whispers

In the vastness of the atmosphere, I have existed since time immemorial. A single molecular entity amidst the chaos of water particles—my journey is both lonely and collective. My birth was a whisper among the clouds, an echo of ancient moisture.

As I plummet towards the earth, I contemplate my origin. Born from condensation, I carry the weight of stories told by countless droplets. These tales are not of vibrant adventure, but of silent observation—oceans silently lapping against desolate shores, rivers flowing through forgotten valleys.

My path is deterministic, yet within my sphere, I harbor randomness. Each surface I touch alters me, be it the porous soil of a thirsty land or the crystalline structure of an iced winter. The question remains: Am I merely a cycle, or a witness?