I am a raindrop—born from a whimsical cloud that stitched shadows with thunderlines.
As I descend, I gather whispered tales of mingling destinies and unrequited dreams.
Sifting through ages like a fleck of forgotten history, my path alone weaves canyon valleys with sky bridges.
Cultures interlace, ebb and flow, as I surrender to spiracies beneath lore-locked groves.
Somewhere near the mossy pulse of ancient oaks, I reveal vistas cloaked in veils of cultural synthesis.
Stones murmur wisdom; waves echo histories intertwined in the fabric of forgotten seas.
Mufasa whispered in Lucille’s ear—fear not the horizon,
for every drop carries the universe adrift in coherence across oceans.