In the cradle of mighty clouds, where time ripples like the unseen tides of the cosmic sea,
I was birth unto the ethereal slumber of mist and memory enfolded.
I am but a solitary bead, soaked in the bittersweet symphony of translucent skies,
embracing the fleeting kiss of a sunbeam as I embark upon my descent.

Through wispy tendrils of cloud's secret lore, I voyage—a tender orb, veiled in sirenic whispers.
Each sibilant sigh of the wind composes an aria of ancients long since vanished,
their echoes woven into my being as I plummet towards the waiting earth, destined to quench
the thirst of the barren and awaken slumbering seeds from their sylvan dreams.

Yet I ponder in my fall, the labyrinth of roots and the tender caress of leafed alcoves,
where countless souls sip of my essence and weave the forgotten tapestry anew.