I am the whisper of a cloud, a shimmering pearl drawn by gravities unseen. My descent is gentle—a ballet, a wisp of moonlit lull. I peer down through iridescent veils as the surface of Earth calls me with its embrace.
Each collision with a leaf, a windowpane, a tide of growing grass, sends ripples into the chronicle of time.
Am I here, or there, or somewhere neither? Do myths of lands beyond echo in my crystalline shell? I hum the melody of the storm.
Dimensions fold like origami, and I consider: is this a whimsy of languages? Each drop, a novel, a quantum theory simplified to the elegy of evaporation. Where is the heart of a raindrop's journey? In the puddle, the stream, the solace of an ocean?
Reflections of a Forgotten Sky