Raindrops are whispers from the sky.

"Do you ever float in your own thoughts?" she asked, as a drop glimmered before shattering on the tip of her finger.

The ground denied them, she mused, yet in defiance, they found solace in the wind's embrace.

"I think I do, more often than I walk." He smiled, eyes reflecting worlds unseen.

She plucked a crystal droplet from the air, and it froze mid-journey, resting in her palm.

"Perhaps the sky too longs to be grounded," he whispered.